After
by can08writer
Summary: This story is a spin on episode 4x09, after Rick and Carl have to abandon their home and believe everyone they love is dead. Michonne has been alone for months and never met Andrea. Can the emotionally damaged and grieving Michonne find common ground with a physically injured and hopeless Rick?
1. Chapter 1

Michonne let out a sigh as she sunk into the lukewarm bath water. She propped her feet up on the lip of the tub in order to push herself down as far as she could, but she only managed to get as deep as her chin. The water felt great on her aching muscles. She wished she could have warmed the water further, but she was losing daylight, and she wanted to bury her campfire and make sure it was completely out before sundown.

It had taken hours to make 4 trips to the creek, lugging gallons of water back to the house, building a fire, and then boiling some of the water to create a warm bath for herself. It was the first time she'd been able to wash in an embarrassingly long amount of time.

There'd been a heat wave for the past week that dried up most of the water sources she'd come across, and she had been traveling from place to place to find a stable source of water. She'd been scavenging the area and happened upon the house she was now in, it seemed a nice place to hold up in for a few days, and when she found the small creek nearby it sealed the deal.

It was difficult for her to find a place to feel secure enough to stay in for any given length of time, but the large, fairly clean tub she'd found in this house convinced her it was a safe place to at least take a bath and sleep in a bed.

She'd scoped out the house and surrounding woods, locked all the doors and windows in the home, and locked herself into the bathroom before letting her guard down and plunging into the warm water.

She was distressed by the amount of dirt and grime that had come off her body and hair, and that was now floating in the formerly clear water, but it felt so good to be clean.

She wished she had some soap to really wash herself, but beggars couldn't be choosy. While in the tub, she scrubbed some of her clothing and underwear, taking advantage of the large water source. When she was done, she leaned back and rested her head on the tub.

"You were right about this place," she said with her eyes closed. "It's nice to be clean."

_Don't worry baby, you always smell nice to me._

Michonne chuckled. "Good answer," she replied. "You always were a charmer."

_That's how I got your attention, Ms. Anthony._

"Hmm… it was. Showing up at my desk every morning with coffee and a smile, bringing in plain bagels for the whole office but grabbing a cinnamon raisin one just for me…"

_Well, I knew how much you liked food._

"Shut up," Michonne snickered.

_My munchie mama Michonne. I always loved watching you eat. And I always wondered where that food went… until I saw your ass._

Michonne burst into laughter so hard tears came to her eyes.

"You're such an asshole."

_That's why you loved me baby._

Michonne kept her eyes closed as she laughed, but soon that laugh turned into tears. The tears welled up behind her closed eyelids until they spilled out from underneath, dripping down her cheeks and into the bath water.

"I still do," she confessed to the empty bathroom. "And I miss you so much."

She waited for his response, a wise crack, or a serious reply, but there was nothing. She opened her eyes to the darkening bathroom, the one lit candle giving the only light.

The water had cooled rapidly but it still had some warmth, and it felt good to be submerged, so Michonne leaned her head back on the tub and relaxed. Unknowingly, she slipped into a light slumber.

A thud woke her up suddenly, her heart racing. She was unaware of her surroundings and she leapt from the tub, splashing water everywhere and creating a racket.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sleeping, but her lone candle was almost out. She scanned the room for her katana which she grabbed and pulled from its sheath.

She heard a voice say "what was that?", and the sound of footsteps coming towards her. Michonne panicked and reached for her shirt, but realized that her weapon was more important than getting dressed at this point. She crept towards the bathroom door with her katana up.

"Hey!" a deeper voice called. "Let me check it out."

"Are you kidding me?" the first voice yelled, "you can barely stand, I'm not gonna let you clear it alone."

"Excuse me?" the second voice asked in a hoarse southern drawl. The man was rasping loudly, as if he couldn't breathe properly. Michonne strained to hear the conversation, even as she began calculating how she'd kill these people once they broke down the bathroom door.

"I'm gonna help you clear it. You should just let me do it myself," the first voice mumbled, and Michonne could tell the first voice was young, maybe even a teenager.

There was pause, and the second voice said "let's go," somewhat reluctantly.

She could hear the creaking of floorboards as the men made their way down the hallway towards her locked bathroom. She was trapped. There was no window she could climb out of to get away. During her months of being alone she'd seen the evil that the humans left alive could do to each other, and she made sure to steer clear of the living as well as the dead. Now she was trapped and naked in a bathroom, and there were at least two people outside her door.

She heard the rattle of the door knob.

"It's locked," the younger voice said. There was quick knock on the door and then silence for a few seconds as they waited.

"It's not a walker," the older voice declared. He knocked again. "Hey, if someone's in there, let us know."

Michonne frantically scanned the bathroom for any additional weapons or avenues of escape, but she knew it was futile. Right now, her only true advantage was surprise. The people out there didn't know there was a woman in here with a weapon. When they opened the door they'd lose their heads… if they didn't shoot her first.

"Get your gun ready," the older man rasped to the other.

Michonne tensed, her body primed to stab as soon as a body part made its way through the threshold. This was it. If she lived through this encounter, she'd never take a bath in a windowless room again, and if she didn't, well, at least she'd join her family.

_Bam!_ She could feel the vibration shake the house, as someone kicked at her door. Her weapon was held up in strike position, her chest heaving as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

_Crack_. The door flew inwards, and as soon as Michonne saw the outline of a figure, her katana was slicing through the air.

Everything was moving in slow motion. What should've been one second seemed to take longer, as her muscles dragged her katana towards the neck of the stranger. In mid-strike, her eyes moved past the gun pointed at her head to the eyes of the man who was staring back at her.

He had cuts all over his face, and one eye was almost swollen shut. There was blood on the bridge of his nose and running down his neck, and his shirt was ripped to shreds. Her katana moved closer and closer to his neck as the milliseconds ticked by, but he didn't make a move towards her at all. His eyes met hers and he stared with wide blue eyes, his gaze locking onto hers. In the final millisecond of her swipe, she made the conscious decision to stop. Her muscles clenched, stopping the katana just as it made contact with his flesh.

There was a long silence, as Michonne held her sword against the stranger's neck, the stranger held his gun pointed at her head, and the other man, who she now realized was just a boy, pointed his gun at her as well, staring at her state of undress in wide eyed shock.

The man's eyes didn't leave hers for a few seconds. She didn't even think he realized she was naked until a few more seconds went by and he began to scan his surroundings.

She watched as his eyes took in the sword pressed against his neck, her face again, and then they quickly swiped down her body. When realization of her nakedness set in she noticed a red flush moving from his ears and across his face and neck.

Michonne's eyes didn't waver from his as she softly panted, adrenaline causing her breath to be expelled in short bursts. If he made any movement, she'd cut his neck. She didn't know why she hadn't done it yet.

The man soon wavered and lowered his gun ever so slightly.

"Carl, put your gun down", he called to the boy behind him.

"Wh… what?" he asked, in disbelief that his father would say that with a sword pointed at his neck. The man lowered his own gun to waist level, but it was still pointed at her.

"Put your sword down, we won't hurt you," he ordered. Michonne stared at him, not believing a word.

The man's eyes flicked to her bare breasts and up to her eyes once again.

"If I wanted to shoot you, I would've done it already," he explained, "and if you slit my neck my son will shoot you before you finish the move."

Michonne's eyes left the man's for a split second to check out the boy who was standing behind his father, his gun still cocked, loaded, and pointed at her head. The boy's eyes were flitting around rapidly from his father, to her sword, and then her naked body. His eyes moved nervously, but his hands were steady on the gun, and he stood in perfect shooting position. From his apparent comfortability with the gun she was fairly certain he _would_ shoot her if she stabbed his father.

Her eyes returned to the man's and she slowly lowered her weapon but kept it pointed in his direction. The man took a step back, giving Michonne her space.

"We didn't know this house was occupied. We don't want any trouble Miss. We just need somewhere to stay for now, and this house is the safest one in the neighborhood."

Michonne stared at him, her heart racing.

"I'm sorry we barged in on you like that. We don't mean you any harm. We're gonna go back to the living room now, give you some privacy."

When Michonne didn't say anything the man gradually backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Michonne continued to stare, her katana angled towards where he'd just exited.

What just happened?

_**A/N: This story will probably be a handful of chapters long. I hope you like it so far, and please leave a review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Rick's heart was still pounding as he limped down the hallway leading to the living room. Carl followed close behind him, and Rick could almost feel the disdain Carl had for his father's decision.

"You're just gonna leave her in there?" Carl asked.

"Carl, please," Rick said, reaching the living room. He set to searching the drawers of the end-tables for anything useful.

"She pointed a sword at your neck. She was gonna kill you!" he yelled.

"She didn't. We scared her, you'd do the same."

"So, you're gonna just let her stay here with us?"

"She was here first. For all we know this is her house."

"You're gonna go to sleep with a random naked woman in here with us?"

"No. We're gonna take turns sleeping. Or maybe she'll just leave."

Carl huffed loudly.

"Go check the kitchen. See if there's any food in there," Rick said, his irritation showing through the shortness in his voice.

Carl rolled his eyes at his father and loudly stomped off to the kitchen to do as he said.

While Carl was gone, Rick took a moment to look at himself in a hallway mirror and assess his injuries. It'd been a day since the Governor had attacked the prison and they'd lost everything they'd worked toward building for the past year. It'd been a day since he'd lost his daughter. Since Carl lost his sister. They'd lost everything that meant anything to them, and Carl was angry.

Rick knew that anger was directed at him, and with good reason. Rick should've known the Governor was bad news. He should've known that the man would try to destroy them. Rick wanted him to just go away. He was so busy trying to keep Carl a child, he didn't do what he should've done as a father. He should've protected his family, and he failed.

The bruises on his body was a testament to his failure. Rick pulled at the buttons on his tattered shirt, ripping the front open to expose his chest. He slipped one arm out and then the other, every movement drawing groans of pain from his throat, and raspy breathing. He was fairly sure he had a bruised lung, and more possibly a broken rib. When he saw the large black and blue bruise that splashed across his chest and abdomen, his suspicions were confirmed. He looked up at his face and was appalled by the scratches across his nose, cheeks and eye. One of his eyes was blackened and swollen to halfway closed.

He figured his appearance must have shocked that woman too. Maybe that was why she'd been so quiet. Why she just stared at him with those large brown eyes. When Carl kicked the door in and he'd surged into the room, her eyes were all he could see. It caught him off guard. Before he knew it he had a sword at his throat, and breasts in his face, and more naked woman than he'd seen in a long time.

He hadn't been prepared for it. Carl was right to be outraged. If that woman had wanted to cut his head off, he'd certainly be dead. But she'd looked at him almost the same way he'd looked at her. As if she'd never seen anyone like him.

*****can08writer*****

Michonne crept from the bathroom, now fully dressed, with her sword at the ready. She moved down the hallway on silent feet, primed for a surprise attack. When she reached the end of the hallway she stopped in her tracks.

The man was standing in front of a mirror, gingerly checking himself out. He was shirtless and had a large purple bruise over his ribs, and he was covered in scratches and abrasions. His leg wound, which he was now examining, dripped blood onto the floor because he'd removed the dirty rag that was tied around it.

She came up behind the man who didn't notice her presence. He continued to examine himself until he noticed her staring back at him through the mirror and he startled.

"Shit," he said under his breath before spinning around and spotting her sword pointing at him again. She noticed his right hand rest lightly on his weapon.

"You always that quiet?" he asked.

Michonne's eyes trailed down to the drips of blood that were staining the floor.

"I'll clean that up," he said hoarsely, groaning as he straightened up his body. "We won't be any trouble for you. We'll find our own food. We just… we just need a place to stay for the night. We'll stay in the living room, I promise."

"Your leg needs stitches," Michonne declared softly.

Rick looked down at his wound. "Yea, probably," he wheezed.

"You have broken ribs," Michonne stated.

His eyes narrowed. "You a doctor?"

She ignored his question.

"Sit," she commanded. She motioned to a chair with her sword.

He hesitated for a moment. "I don't need your help. I just… I…," he wheezed and then let out a series of coughs that had him clutching his side in pain.

"Sit down before you fall down," she commanded, her eyes narrowing in a way that told him if he resisted she'd simply push him into the chair.

He gripped the back of the chair and then painfully lowered himself into it, groaning from both his ribs and his leg wound. Michonne took a survey of his many wounds and then made a decision. She slid her katana into the sheath on her back.

"Take off your pants," she commanded.

"What?" Rick asked, caught off guard.

"Whatever that wound is, you need to close it or you'll get a bad infection. If one hasn't set in already."

"You know how to do that?" he asked.

"Look, do you want help or not?" Michonne asked. This conversation was the most she'd spoken to an actual person in months, and his distrust was annoying her.

Without any further argument Rick unbuckled his torn jeans and painfully pulled them down past the gunshot wound in his thigh. Every movement sent radiating pain up his side and was emphasized by loud wheezes. He was in bad shape and he knew it.

Michonne opened a closet and pulled out a knapsack full of scavenged medical supplies. She opened a bottle of Tylenol and held out two to Rick. He was going to refuse but he saw the look on her face.

"Believe me, you're gonna need it," she declared.

Rick nodded and popped the pills into his mouth, using his saliva to swallow it all down.

Carl entered the room and Michonne instinctively reached for her katana. She had almost forgotten there was another person in the house.

Carl looked from Michonne who was standing over his father, to his father who was sitting in a chair in only his boxers. He glanced back at Michonne again and then his eyes immediately dropped to the floor.

"There was no food in the kitchen," he told his father.

"I have a can of Spaghetti-O's in the bag hidden under the couch. There's a can opener in the bag's front pouch," she said, while searching through the medical bag.

"No," Rick interrupted. "I told you we'd find our own food. Keep it."

"And how do you plan on finding your own food? The sun has all but set and you can't walk."

"I'll go get some…" Carl began.

"No." Rick and Michonne said simultaneously, and Carl stared at the both of them for their synchronized reaction.

Rick also looked up at Michonne in surprise.

"No one should be out in the dark," she explained, "and I need you to help me with your dad."

"Help you do what?" Carl asked, his eyes looking anywhere but at her.

"We need to wrap his ribs, and stitch that wound on his leg."

"It's okay, you don't have to…" Rick began.

"Fine," Carl said.

Michonne pulled a pack of gauze from the bag she was searching.

"Hold this to his chest," she commanded.

Carl pressed the end of the gauze to his father's chest. Michonne held the other end, and she proceeded to wrap the gauze around Rick's ribs, leaning over him to reach his front and back.

Rick was hyper aware of how close this woman was to him. She was wearing a tank top and leaning into him with the beginning of her breasts visible over the top of her shirt. He couldn't stop picturing how she'd looked naked. He couldn't stop noticing how good she smelled from her bath.

It was totally inappropriate. He didn't know her, he'd barged into her house and caught her naked in the bathroom, she was using her supplies to treat his wounds, and he was currently bleeding on her floor. Plus, his entire family had most likely been murdered, and his home had burned down to the ground. He had no future plan for himself or his son. Guilt forced him to push down his lustful feelings. He decided conversation was an appropriate distraction.

"Thank you for this," Rick wheezed, his swollen face slurring his words somewhat.

"Shhh" the woman hissed, continuing to wrap his ribs.

Carl let go of the bandage once Michonne wrapped Rick's chest enough that it held in place on its own. She used the entire roll of gauze, and then placed a piece of tape on top to hold everything in place.

"Thank…" Rick began again, but Michonne cut him off.

"Put your foot on my thigh," she commanded Rick as she pulled up a chair to face the chair he was sitting on. "Kid, bring a candle and matches from over there," she directed the boy.

"My name is Carl," he huffed, but he left to do as she said.

Rick lifted his leg as instructed and rested it on Michonne's thigh as she examined the wound.

"That's a gunshot wound," she stated.

"Yea," Rick confirmed.

"I don't see an exit wound."

Rick sighed. He knew what that meant.

"You have to find the bullet," he stated calmly.

"It's gonna…"

"I know," Rick cut her off, "I've been shot before. I just need something to bite down on."

Carl returned with a candle and matches. Michonne lit the candle, pulled a sewing needle and gloves out of her first aid bag, and rested the needle in the middle of the flame.

"Carl, find something wooden in the kitchen that your dad can bite down on," Michonne commanded once again.

Without a word, Carl turned and left again.

Rick chuckled. "If I told him to do that he'd argue with me." He said it more to himself than to her.

Michonne ignored him and began to feel around the wound, looking for the bullet. Rick let out a small groan of pain. She stopped when she felt something hard a few centimeters away from the wound.

"I think this is it," she said. She gave another exploratory squeeze to check out the firmness of the lump, and Rick released a sharp yelp.

She looked up at with a sympathetic grimace. "Sorry."

"No, its fine," he said sarcastically. "Squeeze away."

Her lip turned upwards in a gesture so small Rick wasn't sure if he'd actually seen it, but her head was soon down again, continuing to check out the wound.

"I think I have to stitch the entry wound, cut open the part where the bullet is and take it out, and then stitch that wound too."

She pulled a smaller knife out of her bag and wiped it on a rag. She then moved the needle off the fire and let the knife rest there instead.

"Have you ever done something like this before?" Rick asked.

"I dissected a cat in college once," she replied with a shrug.

Rick chuckled. "That doesn't fill me with confidence, but I guess I don't have a choice in the matter."

Carl re-entered the room with a wooden spoon he'd found.

"Is this good?" he asked Michonne softly.

"It'll have to do," she replied. She flipped the knife over so the opposite side had contact with the candle's flame, and Carl passed the spoon to Rick.

"I'll stitch the gunshot first," she said, peering at Rick. She then looked up at Carl. "I need you to hold his leg still. It's hard to stay still when someone's stitching you up."

Carl nodded, his eyes finally making contact with hers. "Got it."

Carl leaned over and grabbed his father's leg, making him wince. Michonne reached into her first aid bag and pulled out a roll of thread, which she quickly ran through the flames a few times to sterilize.

"You ready?" she asked Rick.

"Wait. Before you do surgery on me I should at least know your name."

She hesitated for a moment. "Michonne."

"Michonne," he repeated with a nod. "I'm Rick."

He placed the handle of the spoon between his teeth and took a deep breath. He nodded again.

Michonne put on the gloves, leaned in close to Rick's leg to get a better view, and carefully pushed the needle through the skin in his leg. Although Rick knew what she was going to do, his body reacted violently, and he nearly kicked her. Carl grabbed his leg tight and held it still as Michonne pulled the string through the skin.

Rick let out a groan, but willed himself not to move. Once Michonne got the string through both sides of the wound, she continued downwards, stitching the sides together and pulling them closed like a drawstring. After his initial jump, she was impressed with how still he remained after that, just letting out an occasional grunt if she hit a particularly painful spot.

It took her ten minutes to stitch the gunshot wound closed. When she finally looked up, Rick's eyes were closed and he was clenching the spoon between his teeth. His whole body was tense, as if waiting for more pain.

"I finished step one," Michonne said to him.

Slowly he opened his eyes and took shallow breaths. He looked down at the formerly open wound which was now a bright red, inflamed, line of flesh that was held closed by string.

"How are you, Carl?" Rick asked, looking up at his son.

"Me? I'm… I'm fine," Carl said, surprised that his father was worrying about him at the moment.

"I can get the bullet out now or… or should I give you a break?" Michonne asked.

"No. No, do it now. I need to get it over with," Rick said. "Do it please."

Michonne nodded and then looked at Carl. "Carl, are you ready?" she asked.

"Yea, got it," Carl responded, grabbing on to Rick's leg again.

"Okay, I'm not sure how far down it is. I may have to… dig a little. I think this might hurt more."

Rick nodded and stuffed the spoon back into his mouth. Carl held his leg steady.

"Okay, here goes," Michonne said and she stabbed the knife into Rick's leg. He let out a muffled shriek, and his raspy breathing got even worse. When the first incision didn't reveal the bullet, she plunged deeper into his leg muscle, and Rick's screams got louder. She could tell he was trying not to move, but his muscles were shaking from the pain.

Suddenly, her knife bumped something hard. "I think I feel it," she announced. "I have to reach in and grab it."

"Hhhrrughhhh" Rick groaned.

Michonne stuck a gloved finger into the wound and felt around for the bullet. Rick twisted in his chair and nearly fell off, but Carl used all of his weight to hold Rick in place.

"There, there it is," Michonne said. She bent her finger underneath the bullet to scoop it out, and Rick let out a shrill yell. The spoon fell out of his mouth, the room began to spin, and then went black.

_**A/N**__**: Thank you so much for the reviews, they really encourage me to write. Please keep em coming!**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Have some," Michonne said, offering some Spaghetti-O's to Carl, using the can's narrow cover as a plate.

"I'm not hungry," he replied gruffly.

Michonne rested the cover on the dusty table next to her.

Rick was laid out on the living room couch, unconscious. Carl had tried to wake him numerous times but he was out for the count.

Regardless, Michonne had gotten the bullet out and sewn up the rest of the wound.

"He'll probably be out the rest of the night," she said. "He's been through a lot."

Carl said nothing and strolled over to the window, peeking out the curtains for danger.

Michonne wasn't bothered by Carl's lack of talking. She'd been alone so long the silence was a welcomed friend. She finished her portion of the meager meal, leaving the rest for Carl, and Rick when he woke up.

She removed her katana from her back and pulled it from its scabbard, the movement catching Carl's eye and instinctively making his body tense up. His hand went for his gun.

She looked up at the boy with an incredulous look.

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already."

Carl kept his hand on his weapon. "Some people don't show their true colors until it's too late."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."

She reached into a bag and pulled out a stone. Carl watched her silently, and she made eye contact with him as she slid the stone against her katana blade, sharpening the surface. Once she showed him what her intentions were, she turned her attention back to her sword.

He gazed out the window one more time and then slowly made his way over to a nearby chair and plopped down in it. The only noise was coming from the scratch of the stone against metal, and an occasional soft wheeze from Rick.

Michonne continued tending to her weapon, and a minute later Carl pulled his gun from its holder, making her pause for a split second before continuing her work. He opened the gun and removed three bullets before using his shirt to clean the weapon.

Michonne was sure to keep her eyes on her own sword, but in her peripheral vision she could see Carl occasionally glancing her way as she serviced the weapon, seemingly interested in her katana.

"Was that always yours?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Michonne's eyes scanned across her sword. "No. I found it."

"Where?" he asked.

"My neighbor's house."

"You've lived by yourself all this time?" he asked, returning the bullets to his gun.

"Not all this time," she replied.

Carl nodded. "Yea, we didn't either."

Michonne pulled out a rag and began wiping the katana.

"Is this your house?"

"No. I just found it today."

Carl nodded. "Are you moving on tomorrow?"

Michonne paused for a moment and looked up at the boy. She was trying to decide if his question was a threat or just curiosity. He seemed very intelligent, and guarded, but underneath it all he was just a kid.

"I haven't decided," she replied, giving him a look that she hoped conveyed that if he was threatening her he'd better drop it.

He nodded again. "Thank you, for what you did for my dad."

She bobbed her head and put her supplies away.

"Where are you going?" he asked when she stood up.

"To sleep," she replied, "unless you want _me_ to take first watch?"

"Watch?" he asked. He had planned to alternate watch with his father, not this random woman. But with his father out of commision he didn't know what to do. He was aware he was tired, and that there was no way he'd stay awake all night, but he also didn't want to sleep in this house at the mercy of a stranger. But she was also taking a risk too, sleeping in the house with two strangers herself.

"Yea, watch. To keep an eye out for danger," she said wide eyed, with a slight amused grin on her face.

"Oh… uh… okay. I'll take first watch."

"Okay, wake me up in a few hours," Michonne ordered, plopping down on the floor of the living room to Carl's further surprise. He thought she'd lock herself in a bedroom or something.

She lay on her side, facing Carl, with her arm propped up under her neck, and her katana under her other arm. She got comfortable and then promptly closed her eyes.

Carl was left alone in the silence. He'd never kept watch before. Before the prison he was just a kid, surrounded by powerful adults that always wanted to keep him safe. And then at the prison, someone was always on watch duty, but he wasn't in the rotation. But now, now there were no walls to protect him. No adults to protect him. No family, except for his father, and he couldn't protect him right now. Not like he could protect anyone anyway.

Carl sat on the edge of the couch next to his father and reached out and touched his hair, moving it away from his swollen face. He gently felt his forehead, and thankfully it didn't feel any warmer than it did before. Michonne said fever was something they had to look out for.

He moved in closer and stared at Rick. The man was beaten, helpless, a loser. The Governor had come in and destroyed everything, he'd beaten Rick in every way possible. He had always thought of his father as a superhero. A leader, a man that could never be beaten, and now…

Carl sighed and turned away from his incapacitated father. He couldn't count on his father to protect him anymore. He was a man now. He had to take care of himself. Tomorrow he would go out and find food, whether or not his father woke up. And after that… well, he'd have to see how it played out.

He removed his hand from Rick's face and turned towards the table, where the Spaghetti-O's that Michonne had offered him still sat. He _was _hungry. He hadn't eaten for at least 24 hours, and the cold canned pasta looked incredibly appetizing.

He didn't want to trust this woman, but she hadn't given them any reason not to. She was right, if she'd wanted to kill them she probably could've by now. She'd done nothing but help.

Carl glanced at Michonne who seemed to be sleeping already, and then back at the food. He sat down at the table and began to eat his portion.

Behind him, Michonne gave a slight smile.

***can08writer***

Carl had fallen asleep with his head resting on the table, a few hours after Michonne had pretended to go to bed. She took watch for the rest of the night, placing a sheet over the sleeping boy.

Throughout the night she kept an eye on Rick, who hadn't stirred. She was concerned about his condition. She placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature but it seemed normal. She slid her hand down to his cheek to study the cuts and abrasions on his face. Maybe his deep sleep was due to a concussion and not just the pain from the bullet removal. He was really banged up. She wondered what happened to him.

She found it even more interesting that his son didn't have a bruise on him. Maybe he got beat up keeping his son safe? He certainly seemed the type.

Michonne wondered what Rick looked like when his face wasn't beaten in.

She allowed her eyes to roam over his jawline, and feel the prickle of his beard against her palm. She examined his nose and the gash across the bridge of it. She watched his forehead and how it would flex from time to time, as if he were having bad dreams.

"He's still sleeping?" she heard a voice ask.

Michonne turned her head to see Carl staring at her from the table.

"Uh… yea…" she replied. She realized her hand was still on Rick's cheek and she quickly snatched it away.

"He was sleeping all night. So were you."

"Oh. Yea. I forgot to wake you up," Carl said sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't even remember falling asleep."

"It's okay," she replied, standing up from the couch. She grabbed two gallon containers that were stashed under the dining room table. "I'm gonna be gone for a few hours. Watch out for your dad."

"What?" Carl asked. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To the creek," Michonne said. She realized that she was very unused to explaining where she was going, and having someone ask where she was going.

"Can I come?"

"You have to stay here with your dad. Make sure he's not getting hot. It might help if you keep wet rags on his head."

"Are you coming back?"

Michonne's eyes rapidly swiveled left and right as she thought of an answer to the question. "Yea," she agreed. She turned and left the duo.

The walk to the creek was just what Michonne needed. It was early morning, the sun had only just peeked over the tree line, and the night's chill still hung in the air, but she had to fulfill her desire to keep moving. Going about everyday tasks, having goals, moving from shelter to shelter, was what kept her going this past year. She always had to stay one step ahead of something. It kept her mind sharp, and not focused on the pain of the past. As a matter of fact it was usually only at night time when she had no task but to lay still in the dark, that she remembered the pain. It was then that she remembered why she was alone and what she had lost. During the day she kept herself busy if only to forget.

Once arriving at the creek, Michonne placed the water containers down, sat on a moss covered log, and watched the slow moving water go by. It was peaceful and still here, and although she didn't plan on staying long, she needed a break from the company of her companions.

_What you did last night, baby that was something._ Mike's voice began. _Maybe you should've gone to medical school._

"Yea, thanks," Michonne said, letting out a breath.

_You saved that dude's life. And the kid's too. He wouldn't survive long without his father._

"His name is _Carl_," Michonne reprimanded.

_Well, __**Carl**_ _and __**Rick**_ _owe you big time._

"No they don't," Michonne said. "I chose to help them, I didn't have to."

_Why? _

Michonne paused for a moment, and kicked the dirt with her shoe. Why did she help this pair who kicked down her door, pointed guns in her face, and violated her privacy? She was using her very limited resources on them and she didn't even know them. As far as she knew, after Rick was feeling better he may try to kill her.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "They needed help."

_Hmm, you going soft? You gonna start helping every person you pass? You never did before._

"He had a kid, I wasn't going to leave them outside in the dark. And they've obviously been through something."

She heard Mike's soft chuckle in her head.

_Haven't we all. But when are you gonna head for the coast?_

Michonne had been considering heading east for a while now. She figured the further coastward she went, the safer she'd be. She noticed more walkers in the rural areas now, as if they'd run out of food in the cities and they were starting to leave. The previous winter had lowered their numbers, but they were increasing once again, and Michonne was certain her best bet was to find an island somehow and stay there.

"I have to gather enough supplies to make it there. Food, clothes… there hasn't been much around here. Maybe if I keep looking for a week or so."

_And the man and his son?_

"He'll probably move on too when he's able. I don't know if they have a destination in mind. If not, maybe they want to go to the coast too."

As soon as the words left Michonne's mouth she realized the significance of them. All this time that she'd been by herself she'd never considered or really wanted to join another group, or to have them join her. People always meant danger, mistrust, risk, and lies in this world. The fact that she was even considering traveling with these men was shocking.

_So you're gonna travel with them, to help them, right?_ Mike asked in his typical teasing voice.

Michonne had enough of this conversation. "Shut up Mike," she said, standing up and grabbing her water containers. She went down to the water's edge and filled up each container, and then headed back to the house.

***can08writer***

Carl had been sitting in the silent house with an unconscious Rick for hours. He found some books in a bedroom and read for what felt like forever, but he was still bored.

His father lay there, wheezing, not moving a muscle. Doing nothing.

"Dad!" Carl tried, shaking his father's shoulders. "Dad wake up. Come on!"

There was no response. Carl had never seen his father like this. Not since he was in a coma before everything went to hell.

Carl sighed and stared down at his dad. For months, Rick had been trying to make Carl a kid. He stopped him from going out on runs, he took away his gun, he encouraged him to farm, and care for the animals, and go to story time… and all for what? Now they were out here on their own.

There was no farm, no animals, no story time. All those kids that Rick had wanted Carl to be like were probably dead because they didn't know how to protect themselves. When Carl should have been learning how to remove bullets from wounds, he was planting peas. And now not even his father could help him.

A deep anger came over him as his father slept.

"I don't need you anymore," he said, moving closer to the unconscious man. "I don't need you to protect me anymore," he said louder.

"I can take care of myself, you probably can't protect me anyways. You couldn't protect Judith, you couldn't protect… Hershel, or Glenn, or Maggie, Daryl, or mom. You just wanted to plant vegetables. You just wanted to hide. He knew where we were and you didn't _care!_ You just hid behind those fences and waited. They're all gone now, because of _you!_ They counted on you, you were their leader! But now? You're nothing."

Carl paced in front of Rick who didn't flinch. Once he got out what was on his heart, the tears began. He tried to hold it back, but he couldn't. They slid down his cheeks, but he quickly rubbed them away, holding back the leaks that would turn into a torrent if not controlled. He breathed quickly and suppressed his emotions. Crying wouldn't help him now.

He stopped pacing when the tears were gone, and stared down at his father coldly.

"I'd be okay if you died," he stated. He then turned and walked out the front door, slamming it behind him.

_**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the wonderful reviews. I read and appreciate every single one of them. Thank you for the encouragement to keep cranking out these chapters. I'm trying to write as fast as possible.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Michonne hefted the heavy water containers as she made her way down the road. The sun was much higher in the sky now and the early morning coolness was burning off. She stopped for a moment to use her forearm to wipe a bead of sweat that was steadily sliding down her forehead into her eye, when a movement further down the road caught her attention.

Someone was making their way towards her. She took a moment to focus, and realized from the clothing that it was Carl.

Her heart dropped. Was something wrong with his father? Did he die? Was there a threat? She walked faster to catch up with the boy who noticed her after a few seconds.

"Carl? What happened?" Michonne asked.

"I'm going to find food. My dad is still sleeping, he'll need something to eat when he wakes up."

"You need to stay…"

"He's fine. I'm going. You can stay back at the house if you want, I'll get some food for you too."

Michonne sighed. She had no right to boss this kid around. He wasn't hers, and they really did need food. The single can of beans she had left just wasn't enough. She studied his face and saw the pure resolve reflected back at her.

"Did you leave a note for him?" she asked.

Carl's eyes flicked back and forth. "A note?"

"Yea, to tell him where you are. What if he wakes up and both of us are gone?"

"Oh. Uh… no."

"C'mon," Michonne said, lifting the water bottles that she'd let rest on the ground.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're going back to the house so _you_ can leave your father a note. Then we'll look for food."

Carl reached out a hand to take one of the heavy water containers Michonne was carrying. Amused with the boy's thoughtfulness, she gave it to him, and they continued back to the house.

While Carl wrote, Michonne dropped off the bottles of water and checked out Rick once again. He was still lying in the same position, and his condition hadn't gotten any better or worse.

"He should drink something soon," Michonne said softly.

"Yea," Carl agreed. "When we come back I'll try to give him something."

He finished scribbling the note and left it on the table in front of his dad.

They secured the house as best they could, and then left to explore the neighborhood. The first house they rummaged through had clearly been ransacked by someone else. Furniture was strewn around, and the cabinets were open and bare. Animal droppings were prevalent throughout the living room and hallways. After a few minutes of scavenging silently, Michonne called off their hunt.

"There's nothing here. Let's go."

The two of them kept walking, passing houses that Michonne had already checked out the day before, until they came upon a house that seemed promising.

The grass was waist high in the yard, and hidden within the bushes was a red tricycle that had been there so long, foliage had grown through the spokes in the wheels, and roots encircled the handlebars, the plantlife gripping it possessively.

They approached the steps, and it creaked under their combined weight. Michonne tried the front door and it was locked.

"That's good," Michonne whispered to Carl. "Means no one else has been in here."

"I can get it open," Carl said, staring at the door.

Michonne took a step back and watched the boy, thinking he knew how to pick locks or had some other tactic for getting through locked doors. She was surprised when he backed up a few feet, got a running start, and launched himself at the door with a thud. He promptly bounced off the front and landed on the porch in a heap.

Michonne burst into laughter so hard she bent over to try catching her breath. Carl lay on the ground in a stunned silence, listening to Michonne's hysterics.

"Are… are you okay?" she managed to get out, struggling to see Carl through the tears coming from her eyes.

"Yea, I'm great," he mumbled, picking himself off the ground.

"If I'd known you were gonna do that I would've told you it wouldn't work."

Carl sighed, ignoring Michonne as he peeked through the small window next to the front door.

"Well, now we know there are no walkers on the first floor," he muttered.

"Yea, cuz they would've come a runnin' with that racket," Michonne teased, before joining him in front of the door. "You can do a lot more with brains than you can with brawn."

She pulled a plastic credit card from her bag and folded down one end. As Carl watched intrigued, she wiggled and maneuvered the card into the small slit between the door and the door jam. She slid the card down, through the latch on the door handle, and after three attempts, the locked door popped open.

Carl gave her a blank stare as she pushed the door open, pulled her katana, and proceeded into the house.

Michonne's eyes scanned the unkempt living room in front of her. Clothes were sprawled on the couch, and suitcases were laid out on the floor as if someone were preparing to leave quickly. Baby bottles were lined up on the kitchen counters, and Michonne noticed a box of diapers near the suitcases.

Her heart clenched, but she took a deep breath and continued in, followed by Carl.

Together, they did a quick scan of the first floor, making sure there were no hiding walkers. They then carefully made their way up the creaking steps to the second floor. All of the doors on this floor were closed.

Michonne would've told the boy to search for food downstairs as she cleared the upper floors, but she could tell he would not have been okay with that. Throughout the whole downstairs search, Carl was right behind her, covering her back, and she was sure that they boy knew what he was doing.

They stood in front of the first closed door. "You ready?" Michonne asked, looking back at Carl. He nodded. She swung the door open, and he entered the room with his gun pointed, her sword following right behind. The room was still. It had a yellow and green motif, with clouds pasted on to the walls, and bookshelves full of books. Model airplanes and stuffed animals cluttered the floor. A toddler bed with yellow and green Bob the Builder sheets, and a crib with a stuffed Winnie the Pooh toy inside it lined the walls.

Carl lowered his gun. He took a few steps into the room and looked down into the crib with a reflective look on his face. Michonne's eyes were drawn to the toddler bed, but then found Carl, and she walked up behind him.

"That's the same crib my sister had," he admitted, running his fingers across the crib's railing. "Her name was Judith. Dad let me name her."

Michonne's heart broke. She couldn't see Carl's face underneath his large Sheriff's hat, but she could feel the emotion in his voice.

"She's gone, like the rest of my family. Like my mom. Like everyone I ever knew. Like we're gonna be soon."

Michonne bit her lip. She remembered having those same thoughts after she lost Andre and Mike. She remembered the deep depression that followed, the pure hopelessness of it all. To see those thoughts being voiced in a child so young deeply disturbed her. Looking for a way to comfort him, she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"My son is dead. He was only three when he died. He loved Bob the Builder, and playing with toys, and reading, and singing. He would've loved this room…" she said, her voice breaking.

Carl turned to look at her as she took a deep breath and blinked rapidly to stop herself from falling apart. "My family is dead too. But you know what? I'm alive. And while I'm still breathing, I'm going to keep living. It took me a while to come to that conclusion, but living is how we honor the people we've lost."

"What was his name?" Carl asked.

"Andre. His name was Andre Anthony."

"Do you think he's in heaven now?" Carl asked.

"I hope so. I hope your sister is in heaven too."

Michonne paused for a moment and looked at the ground briefly before continuing. "Look, I know I don't really know you, but I can tell that your dad is a good dad."

Carl narrowed his eyes. "How do you know?"

"Because you're still alive. You're still here. I know how hard it is to keep your kids safe in a world like this, and if his son is still alive, and as smart and caring as you are, I just know he's a good dad."

Carl looked down at the floor and then slowly looked up at Michonne again.

"Maybe Andre and Judith are together in heaven, somewhere."

Michonne smiled and patted Carl on the back.

"C'mon, let's check out the other rooms," she suggested.

The two of them opened the second door which was another bedroom with an attached bathroom. When Michonne searched the bathroom inside, she found toothpaste, toilet paper, and more first aid gauze and bandages. Carl took sheets and linens from the bedroom that would be very useful at night.

They reached the third bedroom, and this time Carl opened the door and Michonne entered first. The faint smell of decay caught her attention immediately.

In the bed was an adult and two children, their decomposed bodies entwined on the bed. The adult, presumably female from her long hair, had her arms wrapped around the children, and a gun in her hand.

Michonne quickly exited the room, bumping into Carl who was trying to enter behind her. When the two of them stumbled out, Michonne slammed the door shut.

"What is it?" Carl asked, baffled by her behavior. Michonne's eyes were wide and her chest was heaving as she pressed her back to the door.

"Nothing," she lied.

Carl squinted his eyes at her.

"There was a baby in there," he declared.

"No. It was a dog," Michonne lied again.

Carl looked at the door again, and then turned around.

"C'mon, let's see if there's any food in the kitchen," Michonne said, redirecting him downstairs.

In the kitchen, the two of them cleared the cabinets, finding a treasure trove of undiscovered food. Two boxes of cereal, a half full bag of dried rice, a can of powdered baby formula which Michonne tried to discreetly hide without Carl seeing, canned vegetables, and two stale, melted candy bars. But the most impressive part of their haul was a giant can filled with 112 ounces of chocolate pudding.

When Michonne saw the pure excitement on Carl's face she picked up a can opener and unscrewed the top.

"Go ahead," she said, passing him a spoon. "I'm sure your dad won't mind if we're a little late coming back."

Carl smiled and pushed another spoon to Michonne.

"Let's share."

The two of them found a sunny spot on the front steps of the house, and shared the pudding between them.

Soon they were both breathing heavily from their overfilled bellies.

"That was good," Michonne said with a nod, "but we'd better save some for Rick."

"Yea," Carl said with a smile, bending the can so it covered the remainder of the pudding.

They gathered their haul, and started back towards their home, both of their spirits lighter.

_**A/N: Thank you for every review!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Rick's eyes popped open on a quiet living room. He shot up to a sitting position and immediately felt pressure on his lungs that told him to lay back down. He scanned the room for signs of Carl and his eyes fell on a piece of paper placed on the table in front of him. He reached out, grasping the paper and straightening it.

_Dad,_

_Went with Michonne to look for food. We'll be back by mid-day. She says you shouldn't walk around, and drink water._

_Carl_

Rick looked down and noticed that he was still in his boxers, and his clothes were folded neatly next to the couch. His bullet wound had been completely stitched closed and bandaged, and two more Tylenol were placed on the table, next to leftovers of a can of Spaghetti-O's.

He listened but could hear no other sounds, which told him he was alone. He tried sitting up again, this time more slowly, and with many grunts and wheezes he was upright.

He picked up his shirt and realized it was literally rags, covered in blood, dirt, and huge holes from his fight with the Governor. Chucking it back to the floor, he grabbed his jeans and carefully crept them up his legs, past his wound. He held onto the arm of the couch, and used his upper body strength to push himself to a standing position. He then could properly put his pants and his gun belt on.

All of that movement had him breathing heavily, and his body ached all over from his bruises. He noticed two jugs of water nearby and he took a swig from one of them, using the water to swallow down the Tylenol pills.

Now that he was somewhat dressed and had taken the pills, he could take a moment to figure out his situation. What time was it? What _day_ was it? How long had he been out? Where was Carl?

He looked into the can of Spaghetti-O's and saw that two or three spoonfuls had been left, presumably for him. The contents were still moist and looked somewhat appetizing, so he figured Carl and the woman hadn't been gone long. He picked up the can and emptied the contents into his mouth, soothing his grumbling stomach.

He had to find Carl. He was with Michonne, but he'd just met the woman yesterday. What if she had some plan to kidnap Carl as soon as he was knocked out? Carl had a gun and he knew how to use it, but he was just a kid.

Rick took a step and almost fell on the floor. His leg could barely hold his weight. Maybe Michonne was right about him not walking around. He looked down the hallway leading to the living room and noticed an office chair in an open bedroom further down the hall.

Rick hopped down the hallway on his good leg, only allowing the slightest of pressure on his injured leg so that he could maneuver. He made it into the bedroom, and promptly plopped into the office chair which had wheels on the bottom. He nodded, satisfied that he now had a reasonable way to get around the house. On the floor was a white undershirt and he picked it up, shaking dust from it. He carefully pulled it over his head. It was a size too small, but it was better than going shirtless.

Looking around the bedroom he noticed a pair of panties and a tank top that were hanging over the side of the bed to dry. He used his good leg to roll the chair up to the bed.

He picked up the panties and examined them. They were dark purple, with black lace around the waistband and leg openings. They were practical, and not meant to be sexy, but Rick's mind involuntarily pictured Michonne wearing those panties. And then, before he could push that picture away, he remembered how she looked without them.

Disturbed by where his thoughts were going, Rick placed the panties back where he'd found them, and rolled out of the room. It had been years since he'd touched panties of any kind, but that still didn't give him an excuse to be a pervert.

He was taken aback by his sudden feelings. Obviously he was attracted to Michonne. She was self reliant and capable to have survived this long alone. She'd saved his life, and Carl apparently trusted her enough to go on a run with her.

He had never thought about the women in his group as anything more than family. Of course, he was married to Lori when he'd met them, but even after that there was no one that he'd been attracted to. He didn't know why he was developing these feelings now.

Needing to get away from the source of his unwanted lustful feelings, Rick rolled back into the living room and up to the front window. Across the street was another dilapidated house, and then a wooded area. Rick searched down the road for any sign of Carl and Michonne returning but he saw nothing. He checked his watch. 1:06 pm. It was midday, they should've been back.

He rolled away from the window and to the front door. He opened it and rolled onto the porch enough to see further down the road, when he spotted movement. There was a group of eight men emerging from the woods a quarter mile down the road from the house.

Rick immediately hustled back inside the house and closed and locked the door. He rolled back to the window to see what direction the group was headed in, and his stomach dropped when he saw they were coming down the road in his direction. He had no idea if they'd stop by the house or keep going, but he scrambled back to the couch, collecting all of their belongings that were spread around the living room. His torn shirt, the medical supplies, Carl's note, one of the water jugs because he couldn't carry both, and a few other things. He piled everything onto his lap, and then checked the window once again to see where the men were now.

To his dismay they'd moved even closer, now just a few hundred feet away. One man was ahead of the pack, and his authoritarian demeanor let Rick know that he was in charge. The others followed behind, carrying an assortment of weapons, from knives, to bats, to bow and arrows. They seemed disheveled and dirty, and Rick's training as a police officer told him that they weren't friendly.

Unsure what to do, Rick rolled away from the window and down the hallway again, so that he couldn't be seen from the front porch.

He waited for a few minutes, hoping they'd just walk past, but his stomach dropped when he heard their voices through the windows.

"We'll check this one boys. See what we can find."

Panicking, Rick got out the chair and pushed it back into the bedroom where he'd found it. He limped over to a closet in the room and threw all of the belongings inside before getting inside himself and closing the door.

The front porch creaked as the men gathered on it. He heard knocking on the windows from them trying to draw walkers that way. The front window shattered, and there was a racket as one climbed through and opened the door for the rest of them.

Rick checked his gun. He only had two bullets, and he could barely walk, let alone run to get away.

He listened as the men creaked their way through the living room. Occasionally, one of them would yell out "claimed!" to Rick's bewilderment.

"Hey, found a opened can," someone called. "Somebody's been here recently."

"Look at the blood. They were bleeding pretty bad."

Rick looked down at his bandaged wound, kicking himself that he didn't bother to pick up the evidence of his surgery.

"Hey, I claim that water jug," a voice said.

"You see it's in my fucking hand, right?" a second responded.

"I ain't hear you claim it."

"Claimed!"

"Too late, I already claimed it first."

"You want it? Come get it," the second threatened.

"C'mon boys, y'all know the rules, Don claimed it first," another man said.

"I ain't givin' it to him. I'm literally holding it. He can get his own damn water jug."

"Bucky, you don't follow the rules you know what happens," the other man warned.

"I said he ain't gettin' it. Y'all think you can take me, go ahead and try. This lil' fucker's been messing with me since I joined y'all and I'm not gonna take his shit anymore."

Rick could hear nothing but silence for a few seconds, and he gripped his weapon tightly.

"Well, you know what we gotta do. Teach him boys, but not all the way. Just so he remembers how things work here."

All of a sudden there was a scuffle in the living room. Rick could hear furniture being shoved aside, punches, grunts, yells, and a big thud, as they "taught" someone.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," someone yelled. "Fine, he can have it. Take the fuckin' jug!", but the beating continued.

Rick looked through the small slits in the closet door and observed the room's window. If he was going to escape, this would be a good time. He cracked the door open slightly, but he heard footsteps coming down the hall towards the room and he quickly closed it again.

Someone entered the room as the beating continued. He could hear the sound of his boots pounding on the wooden floor. Rick could only make out the person from the waist down through the closet slits, but he took a leisurely stroll through the room, obviously not aware of Rick's presence. He saw the man look through the dresser, pulling out random clothing. He then turned to the bed and noticed Michonne's panties and shirt which Rick had left on the headboard.

The man picked up the underwear and smelled it. Rick felt his skin crawl. It felt so creepy that this man was checking out her underwear, even though it was similar to what Rick himself had done a few minutes ago. The man held it in front of himself, stretching it and rubbing his face against it.

Rick felt an unexplained anger build up inside of him. He wanted to punch this man so badly.

"Hey, I claim the underwear found in here, and the lady that left it!" the man screamed loud enough for others to hear.

"You found a lady?" someone else called.

"Nah, I found panties, just washed. And a shirt."

Someone else entered the room behind the first man. "You yelling about some panties?"

"I claim 'em, and the lady if we find her. She might come back, we found her food and water. She wouldn't wash her stuff and leave it."

Rick shifted slightly and the floor underneath him let out a squeak. He froze, as did the men in the room, but they dismissed the sound.

"We're staying here for a few hours boys," someone called from the living room. "Get comfy."

The two men looked at the single queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

"Claimed!" they said simultaneously.

"Nah man, I was in here first."

"You claimed the panties and the lady, not the bed. Get the fuck outta my way," the second man said, pushing past the first and flopping onto the bed.

The first man grabbed the second by the feet and motioned like he was going to yank him completely off the bed, but the second pulled a gun on the first and cocked it.

"Chill man, it's yours," the first said, backing away and leaving the bedroom.

Rick's good leg was tiring, and his injured leg was aching from squatting in the same position in the closet, but he tried to stay as still as possible. He could hear the other men spread throughout the house, probably claiming their own spots in different corners of the home.

The man on the bed moaned and groaned as he flopped over to find a comfortable position. He held the gun in his hand until he settled on curling up on his side, facing the door. He placed the gun underneath his pillow and closed his eyes.

Rick sat in the closet listening to the other men move around, until the snores from the man on the bed became loud, and shuffling around the house died down. He could hear other snores coming from the living room.

He knew this was his chance. Michonne and Carl would be back any minute now.

He removed his belt from his waistband, and slowly pulled the closet door open with as little noise as possible. The man didn't stir, he seemed to be in a deep sleep, but the room's door was wide open. Rick listened for a sign that anyone was near to the door, but he didn't hear anything but snores.

Trying not to limp too loud, he pushed the door closed, but not completely so the sound didn't disturb the sleeping man. To his horror he heard a voice from the living room.

"Dan, why are you closing the door? Plan on jerking off?"

"Hey, shut up, some of us are trying to sleep," someone else called.

Rick turned to the man, but he simply flipped over and continued snoring. No one from the living room said anything else. He crept to the window, and to his horror he saw Carl and Michonne coming down the road. He knew he had to act now.

Rick let out a wheezing breath, and limped over to the bed. When the man changed positions it left his gun visible underneath his pillow. Rick needed it. He only had two bullets left in his own. He reached out slowly and grasped the gun, pulling it from underneath the pillow and tucking it into the waistband of his jeans.

Unexpectedly, the man flipped again, and his arm smacked into Rick's hand. The man's eyes flew open, and totally bewildered he started to say "Who are…", but Rick wrapped the belt around his neck and tightened it.

The man began to kick, and while Rick tightened the belt with one hand, he held his hand over the man's mouth and nose with the other. The flailing man elbowed Rick in the ribs, and Rick let out a yell that he quickly quieted. He climbed onto the man's chest, ignoring the pain in his own body, and put as much pressure there as possible. The man's eyes were wide as he continued to flail, slowly suffocating.

Rick gritted his teeth and pulled, putting all of his energy into cutting off the man's oxygen. His flails became less and less effective, and his eyes rolled up in his head. Rick continued to pull, until there was no more resistance and the man lay motionless on the bed. Rick pulled off the man's jacket, and put it on as he gasped for breath.

Rick was desperate for oxygen and aching all over, but he limped to the window and pulled it up with a loud scraping noise. At this point he didn't care if he was heard, he had to warn Carl and Michonne to get out of there. He pulled up the window's screen and climbed out, using only his arms and his good leg. He landed in the bushes and gained more scratches from the foliage.

He crawled from the bushes and heard a loud voice from the living room say, "What the heck is going on in there Dan?"

Rick stood up and hobbled away from the house, waving his arms at Michonne and Carl to hide.

When Michonne spotted him limping towards them and waving his arms towards the woods, she grabbed Carl and pulled him into the tree line. A few seconds later she re-emerged and ran up to Rick, helping him limp away.

They could hear screaming coming from the house and loud growls, but surprisingly no one chased them.

*****Can08writer*****

Michonne was shocked to see Rick limping towards them, and alarmed when she heard screams radiating from the house. She made sure Carl was safely hidden before grabbing Rick and running into the woods, leaving their meager belongings that were inside the house behind.

It wasn't the first time she'd had to leave everything behind. It meant weeks of struggle and insecurity as she looked for more water, more first aid, more food. Leaving everything behind usually meant sleepless, hungry, cold nights without a fire. She'd spend those nights talking to Mike, and sometimes Andre, her only companions in this world.

But it was different this time. She'd lost her supplies, but she had someone to share the hunger and cold with, and somehow that made it better. She was uncomfortable with how invested she'd become in this man and his son, but she didn't find herself obsessing over the next plan, the next safe place, the next beach, or island that she had to hustle to. She wanted to make sure Rick and Carl were safe at least, and if they wanted to go their separate ways after that so be it.

They'd been walking along in silence for a while, just trying to get out of the immediate area of the house. Rick was grunting, and obviously in pain, but they couldn't stop. Those men could easily catch up with them here.

"Where can we go?" she muttered, positioning herself so that Rick could lean more of his weight on her shoulder.

Her question shocked him because she said we. She was including herself. She wanted to join them. And boy did he want her to join them.

"I'm not sure. But we need to find shelter for the night."

They walked for a little while longer, but Michonne could tell Rick was tiring. He was hopping on his good leg, and his lungs still hadn't recovered from his broken rib.

"Here, take a rest," she said, pointing to a cluster of roots that jutted up from the ground. He hopped over and sat down gratefully.

"I'm going to scout ahead, look for a place for us to hunker down for the night."

"Wait, you shouldn't go alone," Rick said.

"I'll be fine," Michonne replied, already walking away.

"Wait, Michonne! Can I come?" Carl asked, running to catch up with her.

Michonne turned and held up her hand to stop him. "No Carl, you need to stay with your dad. Keep him safe."

Carl opened his mouth like he wanted to protest, but promptly shut it.

"Okay," he agreed.

Rick observed the scene thoughtfully from his seat, and then Michonne was gone, as if she melted into the woods.

Carl turned around and walked back to his father. Rick noticed he was avoiding his eyes, but he seemed slightly less angry than he'd been since the prison.

"Hey Carl, are you okay?" Rick asked.

Carl nodded and opened his pack, shuffling through a few things.

"What happened on that run with Michonne?" he inquired.

"We found some food in a house."

"Did you come across anything? Anyone?" Rick prodded.

Carl continued rummaging through the bag until he pulled out the can of pudding and held it out to Rick.

"Michonne and I ate some, but we left the rest for you."

Rick took the can and saw the spoon scrapes from Carl and Michonne, criss-crossing the brown gelatinous snack. He chuckled at the choice of food, and the fact that Michonne had enjoyed the pudding too.

"Thanks Carl," Rick said, licking off some pudding that got on his fingers. Carl passed him a spoon. "It's good that you found more food."

Rick thought a moment before continuing.

"I know we'll never get things back to the way they used to be. I only clung to that for you, for Judith. Now she's… gone. And you, you're a man Carl. You're a man. I'm sorry."

Carl's face turned slightly red. His father just acknowledged everything that he'd yelled at him while he was comatose. He wondered if subconsciously Rick had heard him. But it also felt good to get that acknowledgement, and his father's respect.

"You don't need to be," Carl responded with a nod.

Rick nodded in the direction Michonne had gone. "Is everything okay with her?"

"Yea dad. I think…"

Carl let out a small smile that surprised Rick.

"I think she may be one of us."

**A/N: Once again, thank you for all the reviews. That is my motivation. I hope you're enjoying this so far!**


	6. Chapter 6

Two walkers loudly staggered towards the spot where Rick, Michonne, and Carl had temporarily stopped to catch their breath. Rick and Carl pulled their guns simultaneously, but without a word, Michonne pulled her sword from its sheath, stepped up to the walkers, and swiped both their heads off with one swing. The heads tumbled and rolled, while the bodies dropped like sacks. Not missing a beat, Michonne promptly skewered the heads with her katana, silencing the sound of snapping teeth.

Rick's eyes widened, and Carl's mouth dropped open. The two men stared at Michonne as she absentmindedly shook the blood from her katana and resheathed it with her back to both of them.

"This'll have to do for the night," she said, pointing to an area of the woods where the trees were growing close together, shielding the hard soil underneath from the wind. She spoke with her back to her companions, oblivious of their ogling. "We can make a fire in front of the shelter, with the trees close together it'll keep the smoke in and keep the mosquitoes away."

Rick blinked a few times to hide how impressed he was with Michonne's sword skills. He shoved his gun into its holster, and nodded in agreement. "This'll have to do."

"That was awesome," Carl exclaimed, and Michonne finally turned around to see what he was referring to. "How you killed those walkers…"

"Oh!" Michonne said, realizing he was talking about her. She shrugged and then gave Carl a small nod. "Thanks."

While Michonne continued to examine the area they'd camp in for the night, Carl placed the bags he was carrying on the ground, and headed off towards the woods.

"Wait! Carl! Where are you going?" Rick asked, preparing to limp after his son.

"To get firewood!" Carl stated, obviously annoyed about his father's lack of trust.

"It's okay, I'll get it," Michonne offered.

"No Michonne, you need to stay with dad. Keep him safe," Carl commanded, using the same words she'd said to him hours before. He winked at her, letting her know he was teasing her, and Michonne chuckled, amused he was using her excuses against her.

"Don't go far," Rick called, unable to stop him if he decided to anyway.

When Carl was out of sight, Michonne began to look for dry tinder to get the fire started, while Rick hopped around, pulling branches and leaves off the trees to at least soften the ground where they'd sleep.

The pair worked in silence, both keeping an ear open for Carl, when Rick spoke.

"I know I said this already, but thank you for everything. For patching me up, and for looking after him while I was out."

"You're welcome," Michonne said, her back turned to him as she worked.

"You uh, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but where were you headed? Before we uh… stumbled upon you." Rick blushed and involuntarily remembered the state she was in when they'd stumbled upon her.

"East. To the coast," she offered.

"Is there something out there? Somebody?"

Michonne shrugged. "Shelter. Safety. It was just a hunch that it might be easier there. And you?"

"We uh… we really don't have a destination right now." Rick looked to make sure Carl wasn't coming.

"We had a home, but we lost it. Probably our family too. Look, I was wondering… would you mind if we joined you? Having a goal, a purpose, I think it would really help Carl."

Rick's shoulders dropped slightly as he admitted, "I think it would help me too. I know I can't do much right now, but I swear in a few days I'll carry my own weight."

Michonne smiled slightly, the first smile Rick had seen from her. He decided she had a lovely smile.

"Yea," she said softly.

Rick nodded. "Thank you. Again."

She continued gathering the tinder, and after stuffing a few fluffy looking branches into their rough shelter, Rick tried to relax on top of the padding. Michonne could tell by his soft grunts that he was still in pain, and she'd left the Tylenol in one of the bags that was presumably still in the house they'd had to abandon.

"How's your leg doing?" She asked.

"It's fine," Rick lied.

"I'm gonna take a look at you later tonight," Michonne said with her back turned to Rick. She realized the small sexual connotation and her eyes widened.

"I… I mean… your leg," she clarified.

Rick had completely missed it, and he gazed at her strangely. "I know…" he replied, and then he caught it.

"But if you wanted to sneak a look at other things, that'd be okay too. Payback, I guess," he said lightly.

There was an awkward silence and Rick thought he might've gone too far, but Michonne turned to him and gave him half a smile, her eyes playfully looking him up and down.

Soon Carl appeared carrying three medium sized logs.

"There was a walker over there, stuck in some bushes. I killed it," he said nonchalantly.

Rick's stomach dropped knowing that Carl could've possibly been in danger while he was over here joking with Michonne. His instinct was to admonish his son that he should've called one of them, or let them know what was happening, but Rick stopped himself.

He'd told Carl that he was a man. Carl had proved that he could handle himself without Rick. This wasn't the time to treat him like a child.

"Good job, son," Rick said, patting Carl on the arm. "You okay?"

"Yup," Carl said, dropping the logs in front of Michonne. "I checked its pockets and I found some matches." He handed the matches to Michonne.

Michonne made a fire and they used the heat to prepare some of the rice and canned vegetables she and Carl scavenged from a house. While the water boiled the trio was quiet, each of them lost in their own heads.

A small rustle of leaves startled them. Michonne turned her head to the right, looked down at the leaves, and bolted from her spot on the ground, letting out a loud yell of panic. Her eyes were wide and she scurried away quickly.

"What! What is it?" Rick yelled, jumping to his feet and pulling his gun in the direction of whatever terrified Michonne.

"Snake! It's a snake!" she yelled, so freaked out she seemed like a different person. She darted behind a tree, her heart racing, while Rick and Carl cautiously approached the offending creature.

"What kind is it?" Carl asked, leaning closer to the snake that coiled up to defend itself.

Rick let out a chuckle when he saw what had frightened her. "It's just a Garter snake," he declared. "It's harmless."

"I… I don't care," Michonne said from behind the tree, her voice getting uncharacteristically high. "I don't do snakes. Kill it."

Rick laughed again. "Well, it is protein."

He picked up a large rock and dropped it on the snake, killing it instantly.

"We can eat it?" Carl asked.

"Why not? Daryl used to eat 'em, snake is a good meal."

"Is it dead?" Michonne asked from behind the tree, not even able to look.

"It's dead. All we have to do is skin it and we have some meat to add to our rice and vegetables."

Michonne peeked from around the tree, her large brown eyes reflecting against the firelight. Once she saw Rick pick up the snake and cut its head off, she visibly relaxed. Carl was crouched next to his father, watching as Rick skillfully skinned the snake. When she approached, he looked up and smiled at her.

"Not a friend of the reptiles, huh?" he asked smugly.

Michonne avoided Rick and Carl's eyes. "Not when they're alive," she said.

"From the way you handle walkers, I wouldn't think anything scares you," Rick said teasingly.

"I didn't say it scared me," Michonne mumbled, plopping down a few feet away from the pair, but close enough that she could see what Rick was doing.

"Once you pull the skin away, you make a single slice down the middle to get all the guts out. Snakes are easy, all their guts go straight down the middle in a line. See that?" Rick asked, showing Carl what he was doing.

Carl seemed to be fascinated with the preparation of a snake dinner, and in Michonne's eyes he was the most engaged with his father that he'd ever been since she'd met them.

She'd come across more than a few snakes since she was living on her own in the backwoods of Georgia, and she tried her very best to avoid them. Snakes were her Achille's heel, they'd always been. One night she was in a rare deep sleep when a snake slithered across her boot and she'd screamed so loud it drew a whole herd. She'd had to abandon camp and run just to stay ahead of them. It was nice to have someone around to handle the snakes so she didn't have to.

"Now we're done," Rick said holding up the skinned, gutted snake. "Put it on a stick and hang it over the fire," he told Carl, "all three of us are getting a good meal tonight."

Carl took the snake from his father and carefully propped it up over the fire, watching it to make sure it was properly roasted. Meanwhile Michonne cooked the rice and vegetables, while Rick kept the fire well fed. The three of them worked like clockwork, carrying out their jobs seamlessly. In a few minutes dinner was prepared, and Michonne doled out an equal share for all of them.

Before they ate into their food, Rick held up his hand.

"To new friends, and new beginnings," he said, lifting his meal like he was making a toast.

"To new friends, and new beginnings," Carl and Michonne repeated, lifting their food as well. Then, they all dug in.

***can08writer***

The next morning they were on the move again. Rick's wound had stayed closed despite their hours of walking the day before, and there was no sign of infection which amazed both Rick and Michonne. His lungs were still bruised, but he was breathing much better than he had previously, and because of it they were able to travel a little faster.

They walked through most of the morning, and in the early afternoon they came across railroad tracks.

"What do you think about following them?" Rick asked Michonne. "They're headed East, same direction we're going. They might lead us to supplies."

Michonne nodded. "Okay," she agreed.

They set off down the tracks. Although it was easier walking on tracks than walking through woods, the gravel and rocks were slippery and the way was uneven. They walked in silence for a while. No one in their group was a big talker, which Michonne was grateful for. She was still getting used to being around people again, and she wouldn't know what to do if Carl was a kid that always needed to talk.

_Like Andre_, Mike's voice stated in her head. His voice was so unexpected that Michonne actually jumped and searched around as if she might see him.

_Peanut, he loved to talk about anything and everything. Remember that time we went to visit your dad, and Peanut spent the entire car ride debating the benefits of us getting a dog? _

Michonne was glad to hear Mike's voice. She hadn't talked to him in a while, it was the longest she'd gone without speaking to him, actually.

"Yea," she said with a chuckle.

Rick and Carl both turned to her.

"What was that?" Rick asked.

Michonne's stomach dropped when she realized she'd answered out loud. And she realized she couldn't talk to Mike while they were there. She realized that talking to voices in her head perhaps wasn't normal.

"Uh, nothing," she responded.

_Nothing? So I'm nothing now?_ Mike asked.

Michonne continued to walk, ignoring Mike's comment.

_Mich, we're nothing now?_

Michonne focused her eyes on the tracks ahead of her.

_Oh I get it, you got some little companions and now you can't talk to the one person who was with you through it all. Now you can't even acknowledge I exist._

"You don't," Michonne muttered. This time Carl looked at her, but Rick purposely didn't glance her way. She was sure they'd both heard her.

_I fucking existed to you two days ago!_ Mike said, his voice raising. _Mich, talk to me. I need you to talk to me, just like you need me to talk to you._

Michonne took a deep breath.

_Michonne! Fucking talk to me!_ Mike screamed in her head.

"I need to… I need to go to the bathroom," Michonne said to Rick and Carl suddenly. "I'll be right back."

She took off into the woods that flanked the tracks. She kept walking until she was out of earshot of the men.

"What Mike? What do you want?" she asked, opening her arms in frustration. Now, he was silent.

"That's it, isn't it? You only wanted me when I wasn't available. When I was with someone else. But when I was right in front of you, when I was trying to talk to you and interact with you, you didn't want to talk then."

She shook her head and paced in a circle. "I can't talk to you when I'm in front of people. It makes me look crazy."

_Look crazy? Michonne you've been talking to me since I died. You've been talking to our son since he died. That doesn't just look crazy, that means you are crazy._

"Fine, I'm crazy, but I don't need to advertise it."

_Why not? Let's be real Mich, if your new friends knew who you really were, if they knew your backstory, they wouldn't want to be around you. Matter of fact, when it's not convenient for them anymore they're gonna leave you. You think Rick would put you ahead of his son? But when these people leave you, you know who'll still talk to you? Me. It's always been me Michonne. I've stood by you through everything. Even Andre's death. I forgave you…_

"What?" Michonne screamed, not caring who heard her anymore.

"_You_ forgave _me_? For what!?"

_For not being there when we both needed you. _

Michonne rolled her eyes.

_**You**_ _had the weapon. __**You**_ _were skilled with it. You knew I had no way to protect Peanut, but you left us anyway._

"To find food! **You** wouldn't have."

_We needed you. He needed you._

Michonne was so frustrated tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Someone had to take care of us, and it was always me. You liked being the man, being the father, but when it came down to it, you only took on that role when it was convenient. You did it for show. But when Andre needed you…"

Michonne let out a sob.

"When I needed you, you let us down. You let him down. You can try to turn it around on me, but his death, that was you. Why didn't you run away? Why didn't you just take him and run? Why didn't you…"

"Michonne?" Carl's voice called from a few feet away.

Michonne quickly sniffled and wiped away the tears with her sleeves.

"Michonne are you okay?" Carl called again.

"I'm okay," she responded, moving in his direction. When she found him his gun was raised and his brow was wrinkled in concern.

"Are you sure?" Carl asked, lowering his gun but searching the woods behind her. "Who were you talking to?"

Michonne blinked rapidly and rolled her eyes. "Nothing… No one… I… uh, I was just talking to myself," she admitted.

Carl paused for a moment to think. "Oh," he answered.

Michonne fidgeted slightly. "I just… I needed a minute."

Carl nodded. "Oh sorry, you were gone for a while and then I heard talking. I got worried. I didn't mean to…"

"No, its okay," Michonne interrupted. "I'm done. Let's go."

The two of them turned and headed back to the tracks to join Rick. Right before they broke through the tree line, Carl said, "It's okay. Your secret is safe with me."

Michonne turned to Carl with a genuine smile on her face. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and the two of them met back up with Rick and continued on their way.

A half hour later, Michonne was markedly more withdrawn after her trip into the woods. Rick didn't seem to notice, as he was preoccupied with thoughts of their next water source. They had enough food to last the next few days, but their water would only realistically last until tomorrow.

Carl glanced over and watched Michonne stare absentmindedly at the track ahead of her, with her brow furrowed. He could tell she was in her own world. He reached into his bag and felt for something.

"Candy bar?" he asked, holding the melted chocolate candy out towards her.

Michonne glanced at him bewildered, until she realized what he held in his hand.

She smiled and shook her head at him. "We should probably save that."

Carl looked slightly disappointed and moved to return the candy to his bag, but Michonne stopped him.

"Hey," she called, catching his attention. "How 'bout we make a bet for it?"

***can08writer***

"I think we've got about a day's worth of water left. We're lucky it's cooled off a little bit…" Rick began. When he received no response, and realized that somehow he was leading the pack even though he was limping, he turned around to see Carl and Michonne balancing on the train tracks with their arms stretched outward.

"What are you doin'?" Rick asked.

"Winning a bet," Carl said.

"In your dreams," Michonne answered playfully.

"I'm still on," Carl taunted, waving his arm at Michonne in an attempt to make her fall off.

Michonne laughed when Carl almost lost his balance.

"Hahaha, spoke too soon wise guy."

Interested in this unexpected break in seriousness, Rick limped back towards them.

"This might go on a while, maybe we can speed this up?" Rick gently suggested.

"Yea, you're right," Michonne said, slightly out of breath. "Shouldn't be foolin' around, we should probably CALL!" she yelled, waving her arms back at Carl to make him fall, but the motion made her lose her own balance, and they both laughed when she fell off the track.

"I win!" Carl declared, holding out his hand with a bright smile.

Rick looked in amused confusion between the pair, astonished that Michonne was able to put a smile on Carl's face.

Michonne gave Carl a smirk, and then sighed as she reached into the bag that he'd been previously holding, but gave her so that they'd be holding an even amount of bags for the contest to make things fair. She pulled out both of the candy bars that they'd found in the house, but he noticed she held the Big Cat bar closer to herself, while offering the other candy bar to him.

Carl bit his lip and hummed softly as he decided which candy bar he was going to take. Meanwhile, Rick smiled at the antics between the two. He couldn't believe that they were having fun at a time like this, but he was so glad that they were.

Michonne gave a pained look as Carl picked the Big Cat.

"Oh come on!" Michonne groaned.

"Hey, you said it, winner's choice."

Michonne sucked her teeth.

"Go ahead, take it it's yours, you won it fair and square," she said, pushing the second candy bar back into Carl's bag that she was holding, while Carl took the Big Cat.

Rick looked between Carl and Michonne, and grimaced slightly when Carl took the candy that Michonne obviously had wanted. Carl had won it, but it just didn't feel right.

Rick and Michonne both watched as Carl opened the wrapper to reveal the melted candy bar. Carl had offered Michonne the candy bar earlier because he could tell she needed her spirits lifted. He wasn't about to win this contest that she created, and make her feel worse. Before anything else could be said, Carl broke it in half and held the broken piece out to Michonne.

"C'mon, we always share."

A flood of relief washed across Rick. He was worried that Carl might be becoming too hardened, too much of a survivor. He was worried that Carl might be losing his humanity more and more each day that they stayed out here. But here he was, laughing, playing, and sharing, just like he and Lori had taught him to do when the world was still kind. Carl remembered his manners, and Michonne was the one that brought it out.

Michonne studied the broken candy bar that Carl held out to her. A smile crept across her face and she gave him a mischievous look.

"Fork it over," she smirked.

Rick's face lit up with pride as he smiled at Carl, and then he gave Michonne a grateful nod, his eyes lingering after her as they continued to walk.

***can08writer***

In the late afternoon, right after taking a much needed break, they came across a train car with a large map, and a banner plastered across it.

_Sanctuary for All, Community for All, All Who Arrive Survive._

Rick stared at the banner, and then looked over to Michonne to see what she thought of it, but she was already glancing at Rick.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Rick glanced at her and then Carl.

"I know you wanted to go East…" he stated. "But our people, the people we were with, they might have gone here too if they saw the signs... If they're still alive. We might be able to meet up with them there."

Michonne crossed her arms and her head dropped.

"But we won't go without you," Rick added, and Michonne's eyes met his. "You're one of us. If you don't want to go there we won't."

Carl nodded to confirm what Rick just said.

The corner of Michonne's mouth rose.

"Let's go," she said. "Let's try to find your people."

Rick nodded in agreement, and the group of three continued down the train tracks towards the unknown.

A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I appreciate you all!


	7. Chapter 7

It began to rain heavily in the late afternoon, and the only shelter that the trio found was a dark abandoned overpass that covered the train tracks they were following. Carl started a fire with Rick's schooling, and Michonne watched impressed as the boy improved his survival skills by the day.

Once they settled down and secured the location, Michonne's next thoughts were Rick's health. He was still wheezing when he had to exert himself, but his breathing had improved when just walking, and he was now carrying what he could, just like he'd promised.

"Let me check you out," Michonne said, approaching Rick who was taking stock of the supplies he had in his bag. His eyes slowly moved up her body until they reached her eyes.

"I'm fine," he declared, pretending to go back to searching through the bags.

"Let me check you," Michonne stated again, and her tone let him know that it wasn't up for debate. He looked up at her again and sighed. He removed the coat that he'd stolen from the man he'd strangled, and then he removed his tight white t-shirt, to reveal the bandage that encircled his abdomen.

Michonne unwrapped the bandage around Rick's ribs and noticed the purple bruising was turning a lighter shade of green, a sign that the damage was healing.

"You have to be some kind of a doctor," Rick commented inspecting the wound, but the muscles moving underneath the skin of his naked torso distracted her momentarily.

"No. But I had friends that were. A long time ago," she said, slowly running her fingers down Rick's side. Rick stiffened at Michonne's physical contact and a chill ran down his body. Michonne noticed his immediate reaction.

"I'm sorry… did that hurt? I just wanted to know if there was still pain there."

Rick hadn't been touched by a woman in a long, long time and her touch had startled him. It felt like he'd been electrocuted, but he didn't think it was from the wound. At least not entirely.

"No, what you just did didn't hurt. But if you pushed down harder it might have."

Michonne nodded and promptly removed her hands.

"Did you work in the medical field?" Rick asked, prying gently into her personal life.

Michonne ignored his question and pointed to Rick's thigh. "Let me see the stitches."

Rick glanced at Carl who was watching them curiously from his spot by the fire with an unreadable expression on his face. Rick put his t-shirt back on and then stood and began to unbuckle his belt. Michonne turned away slightly to give him some semblance of privacy, even though the three of them had little privacy in the past few days.

Soon, Rick was in his boxers and he rolled the leg up higher so his wound was visible. Michonne turned to him and examined it. Despite receiving no rest and very little elevation it looked great. It was a healthy shade of pink, and the stitches held well.

"I might be able to take these out tomorrow," Michonne commented, her eyes glued to her handywork.

Rick's eyes were focused on her. "I owe you everything," he said softly. "_We_ do. I won't forget it."

Michonne shook her head and stood, turning away from Rick.

"You don't owe me anything," she replied simply.

***can08writer***

"There might be frogs in there," Carl said, pointing to a murky waterhole that they stumbled upon, a result of the torrent of rain from the night before. The water was too muddy to even attempt boiling as drinking water, but occasionally small bubbles would rise to the surface, hinting at something living underneath.

"Even if there are, how would we catch 'em?" Rick asked.

"I know how to catch frogs," Carl said, setting down his bags.

"You do?" Rick asked, perplexed. He was sure he'd never taken Carl frog catching.

"Shane taught me," Carl added nonchalantly, avoiding looking up at his father. Michonne saw Rick's body tense and his face drop. She watched Rick who suddenly looked like he could punch something. She'd thought the tension between father and son had lessened in the past day or so, but she might've been wrong.

Carl removed his shoes and socks and began rolling up his jeans. The two adults watched him, baffled as to what he was doing.

"I'll wade into the middle and start splashing, scare 'em off. They're gonna scatter. You guys stand on the edges and round up what you can catch. You can use mine and Michonne's bookbags as nets. If I stir up any frogs, you catch 'em in the bags."

Michonne watched Carl with a small impressed smile on her face as he laid out his plan. His father just blinked, mystified and still annoyed about the mention of Shane.

"C'mon guys, take your shoes off," Carl commanded, peeved that the adults were just staring at him.

Michonne exchanged a look with Rick before shrugging, plopping down on a rock, and untying her boots. Rick joined her, the two of them removing their shoes, emptying the bookbags, and rolling up their pants before wading into the muddy water.

"Okay, get ready," Carl whispered, trying to keep his voice low.

Rick and Michonne, unsure of what exactly they were doing and if this would even work, humored Carl, bending down in the water to catch what might be headed their way.

"One, two, three!" Carl called, and he began splashing wildly in the murky water. Rick couldn't help but chuckle as water came flying at him. Michonne stood upright to shield her face from the spray.

Suddenly, there was a small splash, and a frog came flying out of the water at Rick. It nearly hit his shoulder as it dove back underneath the surface behind him.

"Holy…" Rick started, but another frog leaped between Rick and Michonne.

"There really _are_ frogs in here!" Michonne exclaimed, attempting to catch another frog that leaped past her.

"C'mon guys, catch them! Open up the bags!" Carl yelled, splashing more furiously.

Another frog launched itself at Rick and bounced off his chest, falling into the open book bag by accident. Rick quickly held the bag closed.

"Got one!" he called, rather pleased with himself.

Michonne was trying to anticipate where the frogs would come from, but they were vaulting past her, splashing into the water all around her. Rick laughed at Michonne as her head swiveled from place to place in an attempt to track the leaping frogs.

Carl moved closer to the duo while he splashed, trapping the frogs more tightly. One frog attempted to sail over Rick's arm, but didn't make it, landing directly on him. Rick quickly snatched the frog with his free hand and shoved it into the book bag next to the first.

"I got two!" he announced joyfully.

"Show off," Michonne mumbled, trying to catch at least one of the flying frogs.

Carl was now trying to catch a frog himself, but they had figured out Carl's plan and were scattered in all directions, not allowing themselves to be herded.

"They're on to us!" Carl called with an amused laugh.

Michonne spotted an air bubble from a surfacing frog directly behind Rick. She lunged to grab the frog, but her foot got stuck in the mud and she toppled into Rick, knocking both of them into the muddy water. She landed directly in his lap, and the thick mud held them firmly in place.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" she said, scrambling to get off of Rick. She tried to extract herself from him without injuring his leg or ribs. Before she could even stand, Carl was laughing at them hysterically. Embarrassed, Michonne turned to Rick and held her hand out to help him up from the mud and water. He was staring at her with a serious look on his face.

"Are you okay?" Michonne asked, thinking he might have re-injured himself.

Suddenly, a splash of water came flying at her. Startled, Michonne covered her face from the onslaught. When she looked back at Rick he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you just splash me?" she asked, shocked at his immaturity.

He answered by splashing her again.

Not going to take his attack lying down, Michonne splashed Rick back, and the two of them began flipping water at each other, Rick struggling to his feet as he fended off Michonne's assault.

Seconds later Carl joined in, and it turned into a full on water/mud fight, their hunger and the remaining frogs forgotten. Carl couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his father laughing so much. Not since his mother had died. Actually, not even before his mother had died. It seemed like for just a few minutes Rick had forgotten that they were homeless, their family gone, Judith dead, and they were surviving day to day. The carefree way that his father was playing was refreshing to Carl, and although Carl was still angry about their situation, he was glad his father could smile for a little while.

Rick studied Michonne as she laughed, her white teeth lighting up her face, sunlight glistening on her dark skin, mud and water dripping from her hair and clothes, but she didn't seem to care. She was too busy making sure she got Rick and Carl back for their water war. And as Rick continued to stare, a warmth flooded his stomach and began to radiate outwards throughout his body. He could feel his cheeks turning red as blood rushed to them and other regions of his body.

He paused for a moment. He hadn't felt this feeling in so long he almost didn't recognize it. His stomach fluttered. He couldn't believe it. He had a crush, a bonafide crush on this beautiful woman who had saved his life, won over his son, and gave them a goal to look forward to.

Michonne, still laughing and attempting to squeeze water from her locs, looked up and met eyes with Rick in a candid moment. As her eyes scanned his and read the starry eyed look on his face the smile slowly dissolved from hers. Her eyes lost focus for a moment and it seemed like she was no longer present with them. Like she was somewhere else. Her disorientation lasted mere seconds, but once she was back it was as if the spell had been broken, and all of a sudden the blinds were closed on Michonne's emotions.

She diverted her eyes from Rick's face, turned away suddenly, and waded towards the shore. Carl looked back at his father, and Rick's careless persona was now gone. He also looked away, grabbed the book bag with the two frogs he had captured, and walked back to shore. Carl's eyes flicked between the two of them, in an attempt to understand what had just happened, but when they silently began putting their shoes back on, Carl followed.

***can08writer***

They had been following the tracks for hours and passed a few signs once again advertising the sanctuary community.

_Terminus. Sanctuary for All, Community for All, All Who Arrive Survive._

"It's getting dark. Let hunker down for the night," Rick suggested, eyeing the woods that were getting more dense and increasingly shadowy.

"Off the tracks," Michonne added. "We don't need to draw attention to ourselves. We need cover."

Rick glanced at Michonne but noticed she didn't return his look, she was staring off into the woods. He nodded at Carl and they detoured from the tracks, their boots sinking into the soft mud from the rain the night before.

They followed a worn game trail through the woods, that led to a dilapidated general store that was shrouded in dense weeds. Cars were still parked out front, and shopping carts littered the area around the store.

"Carl, take point," Rick whispered.

Carl held his gun out and watched the store's perimeter, as Rick and Michonne cautiously approached. The wooden front door had a see-through glass panel, and Rick could make out carts piled up in front of the door, barricading it from the inside.

Rick motioned to the door, showing Michonne. Carefully she approached one of the store's glass windows, peering through the dust covered glass.

She knocked three times and immediately they heard a chorus of moans and growls from inside. A whole hoard of walkers were clawing at the windows, emerging from the aisles of the store.

"I bet the place is packed with supplies. These people probably camped out inside for a while. If we could get in there we'd probably have enough supplies to bring with us to Terminus. Maybe as a gift? It might make them more likely to let us stay."

Rick nodded at Michonne. "Good idea, but it's too risky. It's not worth us getting hurt."

"I can go," Michonne stated. "I've handled more walkers by myself…"

"No," Rick said adamantly. "It's not worth _you_ getting hurt."

Michonne opened her mouth slightly as if a rebuttal was on the tip of her tongue, but she closed her mouth again and raised her eyebrows.

"Okay," she conceded with a breathy sigh.

"There are no other buildings around here. Looks like we might have to build a stick shelter again tonight. Luckily there's no rain," Rick announced.

"Let's keep walking, we might find something else," Michonne insisted, and Rick agreed.

They walked for a while longer and came upon a truck with shredded tires parked on the side of a road. It had been out in the elements for a long time. The open doors had allowed the interior carpeting to decompose due to long periods of rain, snow, heat, and wind, but despite the smell, the truck bed was comfortable and safe enough for two people to sleep while someone kept watch.

"Home sweet home?" Carl asked, climbing into the truck bed to see what was inside.

"I guess for now," Rick answered.

***can08writer***

"How hungry are you on a scale of 1-10?" Rick asked Carl, while they stared at the small pot of boiling frog soup.

"15," Carl answered. Rick smiled and turned to Michonne with his head tilted.

"28," she offered.

Rick chuckled. "Well, it's been a while. I'd imagine walking all day is burning any calories we eat. I'm gonna go set some snares, maybe we can catch a raccoon or something during the night. Michonne, can you help me?"

Michonne's head shot up to stare at Rick. She glanced at Carl quickly before nodding and standing up.

"We'll be right back," Rick said to Carl. "Don't start eating without us."

Carl gave his father a curious look but said nothing as Rick and Michonne trekked further into the woods.

Michonne followed behind Rick, mindlessly dodging branches and pushing shrubbery out the way as they pressed on through the thickets.

After walking for a short distance, Rick stopped and turned to face Michonne, making her almost slam into him.

He looked down at his feet as if steeling himself to speak, and then lifted his head.

"Did I do something wrong?" he queried.

Michonne narrowed her eyes and took a step back to put some space between them.

"No."

"Did I make you feel uncomfortable? I just… It seemed like when we were frog hunting I did something to make you uncomfortable. I… I didn't mean to, I wouldn't…"

"No," Michonne said again, more forcefully this time. "It wasn't something you did. It… it was me."

She sighed and looked off in the distance a little bit, as if there was something deeper going on in her head. Rick watched her for a few seconds and when she realized he was staring at her now, her eyes focused on his again.

"You hear something?" Rick asked, looking in the direction she was glancing in.

Michonne's face dropped, and her eyes looked everywhere but his.

Rick shrugged. "I know you hear things. People. I heard you talking last night when you were on watch."

Michonne's eyes widened at the prospect that Rick was spying on her, but he held up his hand in his defense.

"I used to see my dead wife. I had whole phone conversations with her and all the people I lost along the way. Like, on an actual phone. And it wasn't plugged in to the wall."

He chuckled and Michonne's shoulders relaxed just a bit.

"It happens," he said. "We've all been through enough to drive anyone insane, but we're still here so we're survivors, and that's what is most important.

Michonne bit her lip and then met his eyes. Half of her lip curled into a bashful smile.

"Yeah," she agreed.

Rick looked down at the spot they happened to stop in.

"This is as good a place to set a trap as any. Wanna do the honors?"

Michonne smiled and took the piece of rope that Rick held out to her so she could make the slip knot trap.

"You take point," she ordered. "I hear things."

***can08writer***

The triad congregated around the fire, sipping their frog soup. Although the Georgia heat was strong during the day, the night cooled down quickly, and it was starting to get uncomfortably chilly. The soup, although not the tastiest food they'd eaten, warmed their bellies at least.

"What do you think about staying around here another day or two, get some more rest?" Rick suggested, breaking up the silence.

Michonne shrugged. "It'll give you time to finish healing up."

"I'm almost there," Rick acknowledged, nodding at Michonne to let her know that she was a big part of that healing.

"We'd have to find somewhere with four walls and a roof. I am not sleeping in a car for two days," Michonne stated.

Carl noted Rick's smile and was thankful that whatever happened between the two when they went to set the traps, loosened some of the tension between Rick and Michonne.

"We're close now, right? To Terminus?" Carl asked.

"We are. Maybe a few days away," Rick stated, taking another sip of his soup.

"When we get there, are we gonna tell 'em?"

"Tell 'em what?" Michonne asked.

"Everything that's happened to us. All the stuff we've done. Are we gonna tell them the truth?"

Rick and Michonne exchanged worried glances. Rick knew he didn't want to tell the truth. He didn't want to relive what they'd been through with strangers. He didn't want to revisit it because he didn't know if they'd understand. Would they even want them in their sanctuary with a story like that?

Michonne didn't even want to begin explaining her past to anyone. She hadn't even told Rick everything she'd been through yet. She was just hoping that the people at Terminus wouldn't prod into their past.

"We're gonna tell them who we are now," Rick stated. He hoped that who they were now was enough for these people, and they didn't care who they used to be or how they got there.

Carl yawned. "It's late, I'm gonna try to sleep. Wake me up when it's my turn for watch."

Rick nodded. "Goodnight son."

Carl climbed into the bed of the truck and made himself as comfortable as possible.

"Do you believe that we can really find a place to survive?" Michonne asked softly. "That this Terminus place is legit?"

"I want to believe we can find a place where we can do more than survive. I want a place where we can actually live. Or else what's the point of any of this?"

"I wondered that for a long time. Was there ever a point?"

"I hope so, or we went through all this pain for nothin'. I can't believe that's the case."

Michonne nodded. "I have to give it to Carl, frog hunting was a great idea. They may be tiny, but the frogs sure were good."

Before he could answer, Rick heard movement coming from behind him, and in a matter of seconds a gun was pointed at his face.

"You screwed up asshole. You fucking screwed up."

Michonne reached for her katana but it was kicked out of her hand and skidded a few feet away. Another man pointed a gun at her head.

Four more men emerged from the darkness, pointing other weapons at the pair.

Rick's eyes scanned the intruders, calculating their distance, their weapons, and any escape routes.

"You have any idea how long we've been tracking you, dumbass?" the man asked. Rick immediately recognized his voice as the leader of the group of men that invaded the house. Rick and Michonne were immediately searched and their weapons were removed from them.

"The rain really slowed us down, but you people just kept leaving breadcrumbs for us to follow. Hold up."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He silently scanned the paper and then looked up at Rick.

"You must be dad," he said, using his gun to point at Rick. "And you my dear, you must be Michonne."

Michonne's eyes widened in confusion and they flicked to Rick for some sort of explanation. Did he know these people?

Rick's eyes narrowed when he realized the man was holding the letter Carl had left for him in the house.

"Hmmm, and where is Carl?" he asked, making a show of pretending to search their open campsite for the boy.

Rick's stomach clenched when he heard the bed of the truck creak open.

"Found him!" someone called, and Carl was yanked out the bed of the truck by his foot, making him fall to the ground and hit his head.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Rick growled, attempting to stand up. The leader grabbed Rick by the collar of his coat and slammed him back down to the ground.

"Hey, wait a minute. Is that Dan's coat?" the man asked, studying Rick.

"Let him be!" Rick demanded, as one of the men dragged Carl towards them by his foot. Carl had a cut on the side of his cheek from hitting the sharp rocks on the road.

Michonne tensed and squirmed slightly, getting into a position to spring to her feet, but the man holding a gun on her said "you'll get some baby, just wait your turn."

Carl was dropped in front of Rick and Michonne.

"Hey, it was just me. Just me. You let them go," Rick pleaded.

"See now that's right! That's not a damn lie. I like a man that doesn't lie. Why'd you kill Dan?"

"I was stuck in the house. I just wanted to get away. I had to do it, to get out."

The man in charge nodded. "Dan was kind of an asshole. But we can't let his murderer go free without no punishment can we?"

"Hell no," one of the other men grumbled.

"You can punish me, just let her and the boy go," Rick said, pleading for Michonne and Carl.

"We have no use for the kid. But the girl, she ain't goin' nowhere. She was claimed."

One of the men stepped forward, holding up Michonne's pair of panties.

"This yours sweetie? I've been thinking about the owner of these pretty panties for days."

The leader leaned in closer to Rick. "The boy can go. You, you're gonna catch a beating until the fellas feel you've been served justice, and if you're still alive after that you can go too. But the girl, she's gonna stay right here with us."

Rick's nose involuntarily wrinkled in rage, but he tried to calm himself down and think logically. His first priority was to get Carl out.

"Okay, let the boy go," Rick said softly, praying they just let Carl walk out of there.

One of the men grabbed Carl by the arm and dragged him towards the woods. Carl twisted and struggled in the man's grip. He let go of Carl and shoved him forcefully.

"Get the fuck outta here kid," the man said.

Carl just stood there, ignoring the man.

"Dad!" Carl called.

"Go on Carl, get out of here," Rick demanded as calmly as he could.

"I'm not leaving…"

"Get out of here Carl!" Rick yelled, hoping Carl could hear the desperation in his voice. He had to make sure Carl was safe. Whatever happened after that he'd deal with as it came.

When Carl didn't move fast enough, the leader pulled Rick's gun that he'd taken from him, and aimed in Carl's direction.

"No!" Rick screamed, knocking into the man's arm and causing him to miss the shot. The bullet flew past Carl and hit a tree a few feet away.

Michonne used the distraction to reach for the gun of the man aiming at her, but he snatched his gun out of her reach and slapped her hard enough to knock her to the ground.

Carl took off into the woods, and the leader and two other men began to beat Rick mercilessly, kicking and punching him. Rick curled up in a ball, but kept his eyes open for Carl, making sure that he wasn't recaptured.

Michonne's muscles were bunched into coils. She wanted to help Rick, but the man watching her wisely moved out of arms reach and he stared at her with an evil smile on her face. Michonne scanned the ground for her katana, but it had been kicked a few feet away, behind the man holding the gun.

Rick let out grunts of pain as the men continued kicking him, aiming for his ribs which were just making progress in their recovery.

"Stop!" Michonne screamed, but the men were relentless.

Rick tried to fight back but was pushed down again and again. He was now bleeding from his eyes and the corner of his mouth.

Michonne looked on in horror. Her eyes again flitted from her katana to the man holding the gun on her.

"Just try it bitch, see what happens," he laughed.

Calling the man out on his taunts, Michonne launched herself at him again, surprising him. She got close enough to punch him in the face, but he knocked her to the ground again and kicked her in the stomach.

The men beat Rick until they got tired. Rick was breathing heavily on the ground, obviously in pain, but still alive. The leader held up his hand and the others paused in their assault.

"What do you think boys? Was justice served for Dan?"

"My fist hurts, and I need some ass," a man said, glancing over at Michonne. Her face morphed into the picture of pure rage.

The other men shrugged and one got a last kick in before the leader yanked the stolen jacket off of Rick.

"Get the fuck out of here, it's your lucky day. You've been pardoned on account of having fun with this little lady here is a lot more entertaining than killing you. If we see you or your boy again you'll get no more pardons."

Rick struggled to his feet, breathing heavily. Blood dripped down his face and onto his white shirt. He was holding his ribs and he stared directly into Michonne's eyes. Michonne wasn't sure what his look was saying, but she knew one thing. He had to take care of Carl. His son was his top priority, and she understood that mindset.

She wasn't surprised when Rick gave the leader one last look before limping into the woods, leaving Michonne behind.

**Author's Note: As always, thank you for the support and reviews. I hope you're still enjoying the story!**


	8. Chapter 8

_When it's not convenient for them anymore they're gonna leave you. You think Rick would put you ahead of his son?_

Mike's words rang in her ears as she saw Rick's profile disappear into the woods. She wanted to believe that it wasn't a surprise that he would leave her, but that didn't take away any of the hurt.

What could he do against this many men anyway? They'd already beaten him senseless. She realized that after the attachment that she made to both Carl and Rick, she was truly on her own again. Her wits would help her survive, just like they'd always had.

The man with the panties approached, and Michonne clutched her stomach where she'd been kicked, and stared at him with her eyes narrowed and unblinking. As she kept him in her sights she used her right hand which was behind her back to search the log she was sitting on for a large enough splinter of wood to pull off.

"I claimed you girl. Know what that means? You're mine," he said in a rough, teasing voice that was obviously meant to scare her, but Michonne could only suppress her murderous rage enough to chuckle softly.

"You think that's funny, bitch?" the other man holding the gun asked. "Your man got his ass beat, and up and left you here with us."

"He's not my man, I just met him," Michonne said flippantly. "He was my job."

Michonne's fingertips finally found a sharp shard of wood sticking out from the bottom of the log, and she began discreetly ripping it away from the rest of the wood, doing it slowly so she wouldn't draw attention.

"You can _try _to claim me, whatever that means, but you won't succeed, and you'll be missing out on a lucrative business opportunity," she declared, even voiced.

"What?" the man asked, completely taken aback from the way this conversation was going.

"I have a proposition, that can make you very well off," she said, ignoring the two men and directing her conversation to the man who she reckoned was the leader.

"Fuck that," the panty man said, his fingers loudly unbuckling his pants. The leader held up his hand.

"Wait a minute, we have time to hear her out before the fun begins. All we got now is time. My name is Joe. Speak your piece honey."

"I'm part of a larger community of business minded individuals. My job is to go out and collect stragglers, and bring them back to our community. We have food, medicine, supplies. Hell, we even have libraries for the bookish amongst you, although…" she paused, her head swiveling to take the men in, "I don't think you'd be interested in that."

Joe chuckled. "Insulting us isn't smart sweetheart."

Michonne shrugged. "My point is, if you come back to my community, I'll get a bonus for bringing in 6 healthy men, and you'll get food, water, and a clean bed. And more importantly, a job."

The panty man laughed. "I ain't never held a job before, I sure as hell ain't looking for one now."

"This job comes with benefits," Michonne said, rolling her eyes at him and focusing back on Joe.

"In our community, if you do your job well, you're entitled to more. If you like women, there's plenty of women who take their job of whoring seriously. You like booze? Our runners are skilled at finding it. Whatever it is you want, if you do your job well, you can earn it. It's better than claiming whatever shit you happen to stumble upon. When was the last time you men ate?"

The men looked at each other.

"She's lying," the man with the gun said.

"I can take you there. It'll take about two days. It's where I was taking the man and the boy before you caught up to us."

"Seems we can have our fun with the girl tonight and go back to her community later," Joe said.

Michonne chuckled. "You think I'm gonna let that happen? Either you keep your hands to yourself and we go to the community, or I kill you all and go back without you. 'Having your fun' is not an option."

"Joe, she's just playing with us, I claimed her fair and square. I get first on her. That's the rules."

"I don't play by those rules," Michonne stated, her eyes darting towards her katana that had been kicked to the side and forgotten. She'd managed to wiggle a sizable piece of wood free from the log. It wasn't large enough to kill, but she figured a large splinter of wood to the face was enough to make anyone let go of her. She skillfully maneuvered the shard of wood into the sleeve of her jacket.

Joe sighed. "If we don't follow the rules all we get is chaos. Your story sounds sweet darlin' but I'm a rule abiding fellow, and you've been claimed."

The other man smiled and allowed his eyes to run up and down Michonne's body.

"What about the rest of you?" Michonne asked, speaking to the four other men who were watching the interaction. "You're not tired of living out here like wild animals? I'm telling you, you have a chance at a better life than… this," Michonne said gesturing around.

The panty man took a step closer to Michonne and her body tensed.

"They know the rules, you're claimed," he whispered in her ear.

"Nobody claims me," she growled.

***Can08writer***

"We have to go back for her!" Carl yelled, once he met up with his father in the woods. He hadn't gone far and he'd listened to the horrifying sound of his father being beaten. Minutes later he'd found Rick limping in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing? Where… where are you _going_?"

"Carl!" Rick tried to talk, but his swelling lip slurred his words. "Carl calm down. Be quiet!"

"They're gonna hurt her! Why are you leaving?"

"I'm not leaving," Rick said, placing his hand on Carl's chest to calm him. "We're gonna help her but I can't fight them all. We need the walkers."

"Where are we gonna find walkers?" Carl asked, calming down slightly when his father said he wasn't leaving Michonne behind.

"The store," Rick said, clutching his side in pain. "We coat ourselves in guts and let the walkers out. Lead them back here and… ugh…" Rick grabbed his side again. Every step he took sent a cramp of pain through his ribs. "We keep them away from her, let them eat the others," Rick finished.

He took in the way his father was walking and realized that he was badly hurt.

"Dad, are you okay?"

Rick continued limping as quickly as he could. "We have to hurry, she can't stall them for long," Rick said, ignoring his son's question.

Carl ducked under one of Rick's arms and wrapped his own arm around Rick's back, helping to support him.

"C'mon dad", he encouraged.

They made the short trek back to the general store, Rick letting out grunts the entire way from his new injuries.

"We have to hurry, God knows what they're doing to her," he hissed. He tried to walk faster but nearly stumbled at the pain that shot up his side. Carl couldn't let this continue.

"Stay here," he demanded, gesturing to a spot a few feet from the store's entrance. "I'm going to get a walker for us to cover ourselves with, and then I'll lead the rest back."

Rick couldn't argue. Michonne needed them now, and if he were to take the lead on this it would add precious minutes to the operation. He didn't want Carl in danger, but he had to trust his son. He'd earned his trust.

Rick nodded and hung back away from the store as Carl assessed the carts piled up at the front door. He pushed on the door and was surprised when it budged just a bit. It wasn't locked, which was probably why the carts were piled there.

Carl pushed a little more and the shopping carts slid slightly, making a loud clanging sound. Immediately walkers appeared, headed towards the sound.

"Carl!" Rick whispered, concerned for his son's safety.

"I've got this," Carl said, turning around to search for an impromptu weapon. On the floor was a piece of siding that had fallen from the store's awning at some point, probably during a storm. He bent down and picked it up while a walker clawed at the door that was open a few inches.

Rick's heart was pounding in his chest, but he realized he had to trust his son to get this right. Michonne's fate depended on it.

Carl examined the siding, and when it passed his inspection he turned back to the walker closest to the door. It's rotten face was pressed up against the door frame, it's mouth open and hungry.

Carl raised the siding and used a sharp corner to plunge it through the walkers eye into its soft brain.

The walker dropped like a sack of potatoes, but a walker behind it was now reaching out for Carl. Its gnarled fingers twisted in unnatural angles.

Although the door wasn't open wide enough to drag the dead walker's entire body through, its leg was close to the door. Carl bent down, reached through the bottom of the cracked door, and pulled its leg through, the rotten bones crunching under the stress. He used the siding to slit a huge gash down the walker's leg.

Rick limped over and the two of them reached inside the flayed, decomposing leg, smearing blood and muscle on their clothing and hair. Carl gagged at the rotten smell, but Rick slathered as much as he could onto Carl's back, and then Carl did the same for Rick until they reeked of dead.

When they were ready, Rick helped Carl lift a shopping cart, and they slammed it through the store's glass window and then immediately turned and headed in the direction of the camp.

The walkers inside took a few moments to figure out how to get out the window. One toppled through the opening by accident, and more followed until the small herd was now free. Rick hit a tree with a stick, making enough noise to draw the walkers forwards.

"I can barely walk faster than them," Rick whispered to Carl. "You go, make a distraction to give her some time until the herd gets there. But stay out of sight and out of danger. Maybe just make an animal noise and draw a few of them away."

Carl nodded, eager to help Michonne.

"Stay safe son," Rick whispered.

Carl took off into the woods.

***Can08writer***

Michonne knew in order for her to have a chance, she had to get her sword. Her sword was in the dirt a few feet away, but a man with a gun was standing in her way.

The panty man stepped towards her, obviously tired of talking. He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards himself. Without warning, Michonne grasped the shard of wood she'd stowed in her sleeve, and shoved it into the man's eye. He immediately let go of her arm, screeching as he pressed his hands to his face.

The man with the gun, who was standing by her sword ran towards her. Before he could aim, she dropped to the ground on her butt, getting out of firing range of his weapon, and kicked him in the groin. When he bent over in pain, she kicked him in the face, dropping him as well.

She sprinted to her sword and grabbed it, feeling her power return as the sword glinted in the soft firelight.

"Goddamn honey, you're fucking badass!" Joe said appreciatively, taking stock of the two men on the ground.

"She stabbed me Joe!" panty man screamed.

"It's your own damn fault, you claimed a woman but you couldn't handle her. _Your_ claim is up."

Michonne slowly backed towards the woods.

"Hey, hey now honey. Stay where you are," Joe warned. "I don't think that sword can stop bullets."

He raised his gun at her.

"Let me leave," she demanded, her eyes scanning the other men who were slowly moving in on her, as she continued to back away.

"Final warning," Joe said.

Suddenly, a loud howl echoed through the woods. It was fairly close by, and the men swiveled their heads to identify it. Michonne was startled as well, but she recovered, turned, and sprinted towards the woods as quickly as she could.

Before she could reach the treeline, a gunshot pierced the night, the echo of it ricocheting off the trees and spreading through the forest.

The force of the bullet tearing through her left arm knocked her to the ground. She let out a scream of pain and terror and her katana skidded to the ground. She struggled to get her legs under herself again and push up from the ground with her right arm, but Joe and another man ran to her quickly. One grabbed each of her ankles and dragged her back onto the road, as she screamed and kicked at them.

Her injured arm left a streak of blood in the leaves and on the asphalt.

"Can't say I didn't warn ya," Joe said chuckling, "Oh it's gonna be so much worse now."

He looked up momentarily at one of the men who was carrying a large butcher knife. "Go find out what the hell that noise was," he commanded, and the man turned and disappeared into the woods.

Michonne tried to kick, but the men were holding her legs firmly, and a third man grabbed both of her arms. She let out another scream as he painfully pinned her shot arm to the ground.

She turned and bit the man closest to her, managing to break the skin and make him bleed.

"Hold her still!" Joe yelled.

The man she bit grabbed her by the throat and slammed the back of her head to the ground. She looked around herself, praying for help or something to intervene.

_I told you_, Mike taunted. _Where's Rick now? He didn't give a shit about you._

Suddenly she caught movement coming from the edge of the woods, past the panty man who was still moaning about the pieces of wood in his eye, and the other man who was just recovering from her kick to his genitals.

A lone walker stumbled from the woods, headed towards panty man. It was unnoticed by the two men. She could feel Joe's hands on her jeans, yanking on them, pulling them down.

She kicked again, and the hand around her neck tightened.

"Stop your squirming," one of the men holding her leg chided.

She turned her head again to the walker who was now a few feet away from the other two men, and then she noticed more walkers behind it. It was a herd.

"Walkers…" she gasped out, barely even able to say it from the pressure around her neck.

Joe was too busy to pay attention to her, but the man strangling her turned to see what she was looking at.

"Shit!" he said, loosening his hold on her arms and neck.

The second he loosened up, Michonne sat up and slammed her right palm into the nose of one of the men, and with her foot freed she kicked Joe, who was actively trying to drag her jeans down, in the face.

Joe held on to one of her feet and struggled with her on the ground while the other men went to dispatch the herd of walkers that had wandered into their camp. The walkers headed towards the men, except for a small one that headed straight towards Michonne but strangely stayed in the shadows.

Joe grabbed her by her injured arm and she screamed out in pain. He used the distraction to subdue her, holding a knife to her throat with one hand, and his hand on her wound with the other, while she tried to push away from him with her legs.

The other men fired their guns as more and more walkers staggered towards them.

"Joe, we gotta get out of here!" the man who she'd kicked in the groin screamed. He tried to fire his gun, but loud clicks signaled he was out of bullets. He pulled a knife and swung at a walker that was covered in rotten blood, but it ducked suddenly and stabbed him in the chest with the same butcher's knife their buddy who went to check on the howl had.

The man's eyes widened and he looked at the walker in terror, as a second swipe from the knife slit the man's neck and he collapsed to the ground. Panty man, who had his back to the scene, noticed his partner had fallen and he turned around fast enough to see the knife that entered his good eye, and pierced his brain.

The walkers were on the dying men instantly, tearing into them. Another one of the men stared at his partners who were being torn apart. He turned and ran into the woods, and a group of walkers turned and followed after him.

Rick stood there, covered in walker blood, as walkers swarmed around him, eating the fallen men. His eyes burned into Joe's with pure hatred.

Michonne stomped on Joe's foot in an effort to make him let go, but he dug his fingers into the wound on her arm again.

"Ahhhh!" she screamed, and she kicked him again. Joe wrapped his arm around Michonne in a chokehold.

"So you came back huh?" Joe asked. "I told you, no more pardons. Turn your punkass around before I feed the girl to the dead."

A walker, attracted by Joe's voice, stood up from its meal and stumbled towards Joe and Michonne. Joe simply chuckled.

"Its gonna eat the girl first" he said. Michonne struggled in Joe's grip, but he dug his fingers into her arm again, restraining her.

He backed away from the walker, holding Michonne in front of him like a human shield. Rick limped forward and stabbed the walker in the back of the head and it fell at his feet.

"Let her go," Rick said in a soft growl.

More walkers lost interest in the recently dead men, and stumbled towards Michonne and Joe. Rick stared into Michonne's wide eyes, and then once again focused on Joe's.

"This is the last time I'll say it," Rick threatened.

Joe chuckled, but his laugh was cut short when he was hit in the back of the head with a piece of siding. Michonne took the opportunity to elbow him in the face and detach herself from his grasp.

Carl smacked Joe in the back of the head again, and Michonne kicked him in the face, clutching her arm as she backed away. While Rick limped over, Carl snatched Joe's knife.

"Hey, hey, I let you go!" Joe pleaded, realizing he was severely outnumbered and in great danger.

Carl raised his piece of siding one more time, but Rick's nose flared in rage, and he wiped some of the blood that had dried on his lip from his beating earlier.

"He's mine," Rick growled.

Joe tried to get to his feet, but Michonne kicked him in the head.

The walkers were getting closer, and Carl ran to fetch Michonne's katana and bring it back to her, knowing she could handle them, even with one arm.

Rick walked up to Joe, stared into his eyes, and plunged his knife into his chest. Joe screamed in pain, but Rick quickly pulled the knife back out and stabbed him in the neck, causing a gush of gurgly fluid to exit the hole, and blood to spray back onto Rick's face. Joe clutched at his neck in shock, his eyes bulging and his mouth gaping. He dropped to his knees.

Michonne was handling the walkers that were making their way towards the commotion, so she couldn't see what Rick was doing, but she heard the gurgles coming from Joe. Carl, however, stared intensely as Rick plunged his knife into Joe again and again, kneeling next to the man when he finally collapsed to the floor in order to continue pulverizing him.

When the walkers were dead, Michonne finally turned around and saw what Rick had done. She slowly approached Carl, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, his eyes never leaving his father plunging the knife into Joe over and over again, until there wasn't much left of him to stab anymore.

***Can08writer***

After their traumatic event Rick, Michonne, and Carl made their way back to the general store that was now cleared out of walkers.

They traveled in silence, each of them reflecting on what had happened in the past few hours, and what could've happened.

Michonne was still pretty shaken up, and bleeding profusely from the bullet wound in her arm. Rick had cut off a strip from the bottom of his shirt and tied it tightly around her wound until they got to safety and could properly address her injury. Rick was also hurt badly, and was covered in Joe's blood. Blood soaked his shirt and arms, and there was spray on his face, but he didn't seem to notice.

Carl was hovering around Michonne as they walked, and he observed her hands were shaking slightly, even in the darkness of the woods. He checked in on her every few minutes. As the only uninjured member of their group, he felt a responsibility to take care of both her and his dad. He carried her sheathed sword on his back, and they'd collected their own weapons, plus those from the claimers, although bullets were sorely lacking.

Once they reached the store Rick cleared it while Carl checked the door and barricaded the broken storefront window with carts to prevent walkers from coming back in.

Michonne made her way to the first aid aisle and was shocked to find a box of bandages and an almost empty spray bottle of Neosporin. It would have to do.

Sleeping bags, candles, flashlights, and other useful odds and ends were scattered throughout the store where the people were camping out.

After Carl had barricaded the door he came up behind Michonne and watched as she searched for any other items that could help with her wound.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said softly. "I mean… you're not completely okay but… it could've been worse."

Michonne nodded and turned around to face him. "Yea. Thanks to you and your dad."

"Did you think we were gonna leave you?" Carl asked.

"Honestly? I… I didn't know," Michonne admitted. "I wouldn't have been surprised if you did, but I'm _so_ glad you didn't."

She reached towards Carl with her good arm, and brought him to her in a hug.

He rested his head on her shoulder, and she squeezed him tightly.

"Thank you," she said again.

Rick came around the corner covered in blood, and witnessed the two of them hugging.

"Michonne," he said softly, "let me take care of that."

Carl lifted his head from Michonne's shoulder and looked at his father.

"You need to take care of that too," he demanded, pointing at Rick's new wounds and the blood that covered him.

"I'm alright for now. I'm gonna patch up Michonne. Carl, can you set up some sleeping bags and see if you can find something for us to eat?"

Carl looked over at Michonne, almost as if he were contemplating if he should leave her. She smiled and nodded at him, and he reluctantly left.

Michonne reached over and passed Rick a rag and some of their water.

"No, we should save it to drink," he said, looking at the water bottle.

"You can't see yourself, he can. Plus, you're not cleaning my wound covered in that jerk's blood."

Rick gave a slight laugh, took the rag, and wiped off his hands and some of the blood on his face.

"Have a seat," he said softly, pointing to a nearby chair.

Michonne walked over to the chair, still gripping her bloody arm. Rick set the bandages and Neosporin down and stood in front of her.

"Let me have a look."

Michonne slowly let go of her arm, and attempted to take her jacket off, but bending her arm caused too much pain. Rick took over and carefully removed her arms from her blood soaked jacket. Michonne gripped his shoulder to brace herself as he maneuvered the material past her wound.

Rick couldn't help but notice how toned her arms were as they emerged from under her jacket, and how soft her hands felt against his shoulder, but he pushed that all down.

Steeling himself, he gently took her arm and studied the wound.

"Looks like it's your lucky day. There's an exit wound, and it went straight through muscle. No bone."

"Lucky me," Michonne grumbled. Rick's eyes met hers and she gave him a little smile. "I guess I should be grateful huh?"

"No. Not at all. You had a shit day. You've got every right to be pissy," he said as he reached for the Neosporin.

"Are you calling me pissy?" she asked.

"No! No, of course not. I'm just saying…"

"Rick. I know you're joking," Michonne deadpanned.

He nodded and raised the Neosporin. "I'm just gonna spray the wound down with as much of this as I can get. You think you need stitches?" he asked.

She studied the wound. "No. The wound isn't as large as yours was. It just needs to be cleaned and bandaged."

Rick nodded and began to spray the wound down. Michonne flinched when the Neosporin made contact with the inside of the wound, but she held still and he worked in silence. He could see from his peripheral vision that she was watching him as he worked with her forehead furrowed.

"You okay?" he asked, thinking he might be hurting her.

"Yea," she said, and promptly looked down at her feet. He continued to work, feeling her eyes on him once again.

"I'm okay," he offered, meeting her eyes to let her know that what he did didn't change who he was.

"I know," she said with certainty that he didn't expect.

"How?" he asked, startled by her answer.

She looked him in the eyes and gave him a small smile. "'Cuz I'm okay too," she replied, her eyes lingering on his.

He returned the smile and nodded, reaching for the bandages to wrap up the wound. He gently placed a bandage on the entrance and exit wound, and then wrapped gauze around her whole arm to keep the area protected from dirt.

"Rick," Michonne said, grabbing his attention again. He looked up at her and was startled to see one of her eyes shimmering with the beginnings of tears.

"Thank you, for not leaving me," she whispered.

He placed his hand gently on her right forearm, and then slid his hand down to grab hold of her right hand. He squeezed it and she squeezed back.

"Never," he stated.

**Author's Note: I appreciate all the reviews and support. Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

Rick turned down the aisle that he, Michonne, and Carl designated their makeshift home. It was three sleeping bags, with a few lawn chairs and a couple of surrounding carts as added protection, but it was way better than sleeping outside in the dirt.

The inside of the store was pitch black, and Rick carried a single flashlight to allow him to navigate the many hazards that littered the floor.

He tried to limp as quietly as he could, but his footfalls announced themselves in the silence.

It was time for Michonne to relieve him on watch.

He approached her sleeping bag quietly, expecting her to sit up like she always did, but she didn't stir.

"Michonne?" He whispered, attempting to not wake up Carl who had taken watch before him.

He turned to Carl who was laying on his stomach, a hint of drool trickling from his lips, and his hair sticking up at wild angles.

He focused back on Michonne, and when she didn't move, he held his flashlight higher to illuminate her.

She was curled up in a ball inside her sleeping bag, with her head propped up on her right arm. He'd made a makeshift sling for her left arm out of a t-shirt, just to keep it still and protected as it healed. She held that arm tucked to her side.

She'd taken her headband off, and her hair was splayed across her face in an unruly fashion. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes fluttered gently as she dreamed.

He could tell she was in the deepest sleep she'd been in since they'd met. As a matter of fact, she'd barely slept since they'd met. In the short few days since they'd known each other, every time he came to get her for watch she was either already awake, or was awakened by his footsteps.

Now it seemed she had finally let her guard down, at least in her sleep. He watched her, observing how at peace she seemed, and he wanted to let her body rest for as long as he could. She needed it.

Backing away slowly, Rick headed to the front of the store to take Michonne's shift.

A few hours later, when sunlight was beginning to shine through the broken storefront windows, Rick heard rustling coming from where Carl and Michonne were sleeping.

He turned to see a half awake Carl stumbling through the store. He didn't move much better than a walker in the morning.

Carl stood next to his father, and peered through the broken window to observe the abandoned parking lot outside the doors.

"I thought Michonne was taking final watch," Carl said quietly in case there were unseen walkers outside. "I was surprised she was sleeping when I woke up."

"She was," Rick agreed, "but I let her sleep. She needed a good night's rest."

Carl nodded in agreement.

"What's our plan for today?" Carl asked, wiping his eyes and mouth with the back of his hand.

"Well, our food and water situation is ok at least for now. I figure we stay here for a few days, until Michonne and I are good to travel. Then we make our way to Terminus and see what that's about. We may even find the others. If not, we head to the coast with Michonne and see if we can find a safer place."

Carl nodded in agreement at his father's plan, but then his forehead wrinkled.

"Dad, what if we do find the others at Terminus, but Michonne doesn't want to stay and they do?"

Rick rubbed his thumb across his forehead as he considered Carl's question. He'd asked himself the same question. He'd thought about it all night.

It would be joyous to find everyone at Terminus. Reunions like that rarely happened in this world, but Michonne didn't know these people, and she hadn't been around people in a long time. It was possible she wouldn't get along with them, or not want to be there.

"We'll just take that as it comes," Rick said.

"But either way we're not gonna leave her. Right?" Carl pushed, leaning closer to his father.

"We won't let her be alone," Rick confirmed. "No matter what."

Carl was satisfied with that answer for now. He stood and moved closer to the window, examining the width of it.

"Since we're staying inside for a while, we should cover the window up more." He pointed to some shelves that weren't bolted to the walls.

"We could push those up against the windows. That way nothing can get in and we don't need someone on watch all the time."

Rick nodded at his son's suggestion with a bit of pride. He was surprised he hadn't thought of that solution earlier.

"Great idea Carl," Rick agreed, and the two of them got to work.

For a group of people conditioned to move as a means of survival, staying inside for a few days to rest was a near impossible feat. Halfway through the first day Rick was getting antsy. He wanted to make rounds outside of the door, just to make sure everything was secure, and Carl threatened to tie him down if he tried to leave.

After apologizing to Rick for sleeping through her watch, Michonne wanted to practice using her katana with just her right arm, since her left arm was out of commission for a few days at least. Carl told her she still had to rest and get her strength back for when she needed it. When she insisted, he grabbed her katana and sat on it. Luckily it was to Michonne's amusement, and she eventually relented.

Keeping Michonne and his father resting was a full time job in itself, so in the middle of the afternoon when things got excessively boring, Carl pulled out some magazines he found in the grocery aisles and he and Michonne read the gossip columns aloud, pretending that the news that was over a year old and in no way relevant anymore was interesting. Carl had no idea who half the celebrities were, and they were probably all dead anyway, but it was amazing what people found interesting before they had to worry about day to day survival.

"Hey Michonne, did you know Justin Bieber has an upcoming 3D movie called 'Never Say Never?'" Carl asked sarcastically.

"Who?" Michonne asked.

"Justin Bieber. You don't know who that is?"

"You do?" she asked, as she absentmindedly flipped through her own magazine.

"Uh, kind of. This girl in my class, Emily, she was obsessed with him. She would always watch his videos on youtube."

Michonne nodded. "And this Emily, did you talk to her a lot?" she asked, as she flipped another page.

"No, I would just overhear her conversations sometimes."

"Mmhmm," Michonne said, shooting Carl a knowing look.

"Anyway, next headline. Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon are having a baby."

Carl went quiet and stared at the article and the picture of the two celebrities for a little while. Michonne looked up when he stopped talking.

"You ever wonder if they had the baby? If she even lived long enough to have it? You think these people are even still alive?"

Carl closed the magazine and threw it on the floor. His mood had completely changed.

"This shit doesn't matter anyway," he cursed.

"Hey," Michonne called, seeing the hopelessness creeping into him again. A hopelessness that she was good friends with for a long time. "Hey, _we're_ alive right? So it isn't so hard to think that they're alive too."

She reached into her bag and felt around until she pulled out the last candybar that they'd saved.

"Lunch?" she asked.

He smiled and nodded. Michonne unwrapped the bar, broke it in half, and gave Carl one of the halves.

"Y'know what? Let's forget the gossip right now. I found something good," she said, holding up her magazine. Rick stepped from around the aisle and made his way towards them, likely overhearing Carl's gloomy outburst.

"I've got horoscopes!" Michonne said cheerfully. When Rick reached them, she broke her share of the candy bar in half again and handed a piece to Rick. When he looked down and saw what she was offering him, a smile spread across his face, and he nodded in thanks before accepting the gift and plopping into one of the empty lawn chairs.

"Let's see. What's your sign?" Michonne asked Carl before popping her piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"I don't know," Carl said as he chewed on his chocolate.

"Well when's your birthday?"

"April 13th."

"So you're an Aries baby. Let's see," Michonne said, running her finger across the page until she found what she was looking for.

She sunk back into her lawn chair and began to read.

"Things may get a bit confusing today, Aries. Don't feel like you need to make sense of it all. In fact, that may be impossible. Whatever you do, make sure you're being yourself. Other people are quite malleable, so you should take the lead in just about any situation. Make sure you're considerate of other people's needs."

Carl stared at Michonne with his head cocked to the side.

"What does _that_ mean?" He asked.

"I dunno," she shrugged, "it means whatever you interpret it to mean."

"I guess like, be a leader and take care of others, and be yourself."

"Looks like you're already doing that," Rick said, as he propped his feet up on another lawn chair. "You've definitely been taking care of Michonne and I."

"And leading," Michonne cut in.

Carl nodded. "Okay, I guess that was _sort_ of accurate. Read dad's."

Michonne turned to Rick with a teasing smile. "Sign?"

"Taurus," Rick said.

Michonne snickered, "of course," and began searching the page.

"What's that mean?" Rick asked, but Michonne continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Mix your reality with a bit of fantasy today, Taurus. Kick back for a while and rest. Try to spend time meditating and clearing your head of daily worries. Calming, relaxing activities are the best way to spend today. Take walks with friends and go deep into conversation about outlandish subjects. Give yourself time and space to dream."

"How wonderfully vague" Rick said with a roll of his eyes.

"What do you think it means, Rick?" Michonne asked playfully.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I don't believe in that stuff," he huffed.

"C'mon dad, don't ruin the fun," Carl warned.

Rick sighed again.

"It means I should probably take some time to relax," he admitted.

"Which is exactly what we're doing today," Michonne said dramatically. "Hey, maybe there is something to this horoscope stuff."

Carl turned to Michonne and held out his hand. "Let me read yours Michonne."

She passed Carl the magazine. "I'm an Aquarius."

Carl scanned the page until he found her sign.

"Be open to any invitations that come your way or any new people you meet. Change is in the air for you, Aquarius, and you need only be receptive in order for it to come about. You may even meet someone at a social event who winds up being your partner for life. Explore all your interests and trust your intuition, for it will be a reliable guide.

"So _Michonne_, what do you think that means?" Rick inquired smugly.

Michonne blinked at him a few times. "Well _Rick_, I think it means I need to go to more social events, my partner for life is supposed to be there."

The three of them laughed.

"We'll check out the local club scene around here," Rick said sarcastically.

"Hey, keep the negativity over there Taurus," Michonne said with a laugh, pretending to shoo the negativity back in Rick's direction. "You're supposed to be meditating. As an Aquarius I'm going to be open to the changes happening in my life. Honestly, we can all use some change."

"And as an Aries, I'm being considerate of Michonne's need to believe this stuff," Carl laughed.

"Fine," Rick sighed. "I'm gonna go meditate and relax to clear my head of daily worries. Also known as taking a nap."

Michonne giggled. "Hold on, let me check that wound on your leg first."

"It's okay, I'll take a look at it myself."

"The stitches should be about ready to come out."

"I can take 'em out," he quickly answered, eyeing Michonne's injured arm.

"Rick! Let me help you," Michonne demanded, not taking no as an answer.

He could see arguing with her would be a losing battle.

"Yes ma'am," he conceded.

After two days of forced rest and relaxation, all three of them were rearing to get on the road again. Rick's limp was less noticeable, his stitches were gone, and his ribs only hurt if he pushed himself too far. The many cuts and bruises on Rick's face had mostly healed, and as much as Michonne hated to admit it, she'd taken notice of his attractiveness.

Against Rick's wishes, Michonne had removed her sling. It was still painful for her to bend her left arm, but she was fine swinging her katana with just her right. Carl was vigilant for all three of them, knowing that Rick and Michonne weren't at their best.

They left their shelter early in the morning and made their way back to the train tracks, passing the truck that was the site of their ambush by the claimers. Rick noticed that Joe's body was gone. The only thing left was a blood stain and footsteps, but considering Rick didn't stab him in the head he wasn't surprised.

He spit on the stain as he walked by.

They continued down the tracks for the rest of the day, stopping briefly to take a water break. They passed another train map, showing that Terminus was a day away, and as much as it gave Rick comfort to have a purpose and a goal, every mile that they got closer to this community he got more uneasy.

He was happy with Carl and Michonne. He knew them, he trusted them. He wasn't sure how he'd feel being around new people. He wasn't sure he could ever fully trust these new people either. Not after what they'd been through.

The real incentive to go to Terminus was to find his family. Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, Sasha, Bob, Beth, Tyrese… he had to see if they'd gone there. Even if he found _one_ of them it would still be worth it. But if they weren't at Terminus, and Michonne didn't want to stay, he'd have no problem leaving and heading for the coast with her. Wherever he went, he knew it'd be with her.

In the afternoon they came to a road that went across the tracks, and on the road were several abandoned cars.

"Let's check these out," Michonne dictated, pulling her katana from its scabbard.

The three of them headed over to a group of cars, haphazardly stopped in the road. One had run over a walker long ago, and the weight of the car had pushed a wheel directly into the still moving walker's chest. The walker flailed its arms wildly, swiping at Michonne's boots. Without hesitation she sliced her sword through its head, ending its struggle.

Rick removed a weathered piece of paper that had been lodged under the car's windshield wipers, while Carl tried to peer through the dirty glass that was covered in mud, dust, and some traces of blood, from being parked for over a year. He couldn't see much, but he pulled his knife and yanked on the door handle. The car door didn't budge, but there was a bump as a walker threw itself against the car's glass.

It pressed its tiny face against the dirty window, and although it was hard to see through the muck, it was clear by the walker's size that it was a child. Michonne saw the small silhouette of its hand as it clawed at the glass, growling viciously, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Rick unfolded the note from the windshield, but most of the ink had been erased by rain. He could only make out a few words.

_Bitten… my son, David… take care of… food for him… help him._

Rick and Carl stared at the walker that was in remarkably good shape for having been dead for so long. He didn't seem to have any bites or open wounds on him, and Rick quickly realized that the boy had died from being left alone in the car. Michonne pressed her hand to her mouth in disgust, turned, and walked back into the woods.

"Michonne!" Rick shouted, he took a few steps to pursue her, but Carl grabbed his wrist. Rick gazed at Carl with a furrowed brow, but Carl shook his head.

"Give her a minute," he insisted. He turned back to the walker, still clawing at the windows. "We should probably handle this first."

***can08writer***

_It wasn't him, Michonne._

"You think I don't know that?" she asked, running her hand through her locs and pacing back and forth between two trees. "I know exactly what happened to him. _I_ buried him. _I_ buried our son in the ground."

_There you go again. You know what? It's my fault Michonne. It's all my fault. Our son is dead because of me. Our lives are ruined because of me. This whole damn apocalypse is because of me. Does that make you feel better? Is that what it's gonna take? Go ahead, blame it all on me baby. If that will make you feel better, I'll take the brunt of it all…_

"No."

_No What?_

"No. It won't make me feel better." She stopped pacing and slowly slid her back down a tree until she was sitting on the ground.

"It never has, because it's not all your fault. Back at the camp, it wasn't only you that did it. I was responsible too. We both failed Peanut, and I'm sorry. I just miss him so much." Michonne closed her eyes and allowed the tears to slip through her eyelashes unrebuked.

"If things were different, you could be here. And he could be… I'm just tired. I'm tired of all of this."

_I know Michonne. You can't keep doing this to yourself. _

"I know, because it's tearing me apart. It tore me apart. It made me into just another monster for so long."

_You know what you need to do then baby. It's simple. You've known all along. And then you'll be free from it._

Michonne opened her eyes and looked up through the trees at the slowly darkening sky. She had been carrying this emotional burden with her for so long, even after she had finally destroyed Mike and Terry's rotting corpses that she'd physically dragged around all winter. It was time to let this go. Now that she had people that she cared about, she was finally _able_ to let this go.

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. She'd known what she had to do for a long time, but doing it was the hard part. It was easier to blame Mike, and to blame the world for everything. It was easier to blame herself too.

She stood up and wiped the leaves and dirt from her jeans. She then wrapped her arms around herself, almost as a shield to ward off her doubt. She steeled herself for the next words to leave her mouth.

"I forgive you Michonne."

***can08writer***

Even before Michonne exited the woods she could smell the scent of burning wood and flesh. It got stronger as she got closer to where she left Rick and Carl.

When she spotted them they were facing a raging bonfire, the flames shooting up taller than the both of them. The car window had been smashed and the door was now open.

She approached the two, and they both turned around and studied her red eyes and the dried tears on her cheeks, even though she'd tried to wipe them away. She stood between Carl and Rick, and gazed into the funeral pyre, and a sense of relief washed over her.

Carl saw her shoulders relax. He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers tightly. She turned to him and gave him a grateful grin, pulling him towards her more closely, trying to convey to him how much she cared about him. They exchanged an understanding look and she turned back towards the flames again.

She saw Rick in her peripheral vision, trying to discreetly study her and make sure she was okay. Still facing forwards, she reached for his hand as well, sliding her fingers down his palm until his fingers were entwined with her own. She squeezed his hand once to let him know she was okay. After a split second she felt his fingers engulf her own, discreetly rubbing against them.

"Thank you," she said out loud, grateful for both of the men that now meant the world to her.

The three of them stood holding hands at the burning bonfire for a few minutes more, until the heat from the flames and the darkening skies bid them to move on.

They continued down the tracks for a while longer until they came upon another one of the Terminus maps, except this one made Rick and Carl freeze and their jaws hang open in disbelief. Written in blood was the message:

_Glenn go to Terminus. Maggie, Sasha, Bob._

_**Author's Note:** So those horoscopes and the gossip titles from the magazines were all from October 2010 when the Walking Dead actually started, and it was so hilarious looking at the celebrity gossip from that point in time. Anyway, thank you again for all your support and every review._


	10. Chapter 10

"Help! Help me! Help!," a voice screamed in the distance.

Rick and Michonne froze, their bodies on high alert. Carl turned to Rick. "We need to help. It could be Maggie!"

Before Rick could stop him, Carl drew his knife and took off into the woods, the bushes and shrubs rustling in his wake.

"Carl! Wait!" Rick screamed, pulling his gun and taking off after his son. Michonne was close behind, her katana unsheathed and ready to attack.

They followed the yells and Carl's path of trampled shrubbery until they came to a small clearing. Rick's suspicion was high when all he saw was a man with a mud covered walker on top of him. He was expecting a herd at least, from all the noise the man was making.

Carl seemed confused as well because he abruptly stopped running at the edge of the tree line. The man on the ground spotted Carl standing there and began to scream louder.

"Help! Please come help me! I dropped my knife!"

Carl moved closer, holding his own knife in front of him.

"Carl!" Rick barked, but Carl leaned in and raised his knife. A split second before he brought it down on the walker's head he realized that the walker was staring at him with a look that betrayed it as being very much alive, and it raised his arm to strike him with a knife that was hidden in its sleeve.

Carl couldn't adjust his trajectory fast enough to avoid the knife, and he watched in shock as the man lunged at him. A gunshot rang through the woods, and the man's hand, still clutching the knife, went flying to the ground. In another few seconds Michonne's katana was slicing through the air, and holding her sword with only her right hand she lopped off the attacker's head.

The man on the ground looked at the dead man in stunned silence, his mouth hanging open. He looked from Michonne, to Rick, to Carl. The three of them were standing over him as he lay on the ground.

The man raised his arms in surrender.

"You killed… you, you killed him. We… we weren't gonna kill you. We were just gonna rob… we just needed food. He's dead. He's dead, you just…"

The man's sentence ended when Rick cut his throat. He let out a few gurgles and grasped his neck in shock before falling backwards into the dirt.

Rick rounded on Carl.

"You don't trust anyone. Anyone!" Rick screamed, still in a panic from what almost happened to his son.

"I thought he needed help."

"The people out here all want to kill you. You don't let your guard down _ever_. You hear me?"

When Carl didn't answer quickly enough, Rick grabbed his shoulder and puts his head at eye level with Carl's.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yea dad," Carl said, his voice shaking slightly. Rick let go of his son's shoulder but continued to stare at him. "You okay?"

A rustle in the bushes made the three of them turn and point their weapons. Michonne ran at the sound with her katana ready to swing. When she got into the treeline she spotted a man with a weapon.

Without hesitation, she swiped her sword at the man's weapon, throwing him off balance and making it clamber to the ground. Rick was right behind her, but when he saw the man he hesitated for a moment.

"Michonne wait!" Rick called, but she already was preparing to drive her katana into the man's skull.

Before she could do anything, the man kicked her in the leg, causing her knee to buckle and her to be off balance for a few seconds.

The man rolled to his weapon and grabbed for it, while Michonne raised her sword again.

"Michonne stop!"

Her katana was already on a downward stab, and the man's crossbow took the brunt of the hit as he used it to block her swing.

Rick grabbed Michonne around the waist and physically picked her up off the ground and moved her a few feet away to stop her from swinging at the man again.

"What?" she screamed, completely confused about why Rick wasn't letting her kill this man who was probably part of the same group as the other two men.

The distraction gave the man enough time to point his crossbow at the trio, and then recognition washed over his face and he slowly lowered it again.

"Rick?" the man asked.

"Daryl!" Carl called, running up to the man and giving him a joyful hug.

"Carl!" Daryl said, giving the boy a quick squeeze, but then his attention went back to the woman who'd just tried to kill him.

"Who the hell is this?" he asked, pointing a dirty finger at Michonne.

Michonne stood there with her katana up, looking back and forth between the shaggy haired man and Rick, bewildered about what Rick was doing, especially after the speech he just gave Carl.

"Michonne, we know him. He's our friend. He's from our group."

Michonne continued to stare, and didn't attempt to lower her sword, so Rick gently touched her hand and put pressure on her wrists, making them move downward slowly. "It's okay. It's okay. Put it down."

Daryl and Michonne were still staring at each other suspiciously, so Rick placed himself between the two of them. Daryl tilted his head in her direction. "She tried to kill me."

"Look, we've been through a lot and she doesn't know you."

"Anybody else with you?" Daryl asked looking around.

"No. It's just us. This is Michonne, we met her on the road."

Rick turned to Michonne whose body was still tense and who was glaring at Daryl.

"Michonne, this is Daryl."

When Michonne said nothing, Rick turned back to Daryl. "Do you know where anyone else is?"

"Nah. I was with Beth for a while, but someone took her in a car. I don't know who it was. I don't know where she went. She's just gone."

"We think Maggie, Sasha and Bob are alive. We started seeing signs from Maggie to Glenn, telling him to go to Terminus."

"Yea, I saw those. Been following them myself. Then I heard someone yelling. I thought…"

"Yea, us too."

Daryl observed the two dead men in the field behind them, and the healed cuts that crossed Rick's face. They were no longer swollen and red, but they were still there. He glanced over at Carl who had returned to Michonne's side, and then Michonne who was still staring at him as if trying to study him. Her left arm was still held close to her body, and Daryl realized she was injured as well.

"You get them cuts from the Governor?" he asked Rick.

"Some of them," Rick said dismissively. He looked over at Michonne.

"Michonne saved my life. We wouldn't have gotten far without her."

Michonne's eyes were still flitting from Rick's to Daryl's, and Rick noticed she was looking at Daryl the same way she'd looked at him when she first met him. Like she was going to either run away or chop his head off.

"Well, I'm glad I found y'all," Daryl said. "If you're alive, it means the others probably are too."

*****can08writer*****

Rick was relieved to reunite with Daryl, but he noticed Michonne had somewhat reverted back to some of her old habits. She still spoke to him and Carl, but she kept her distance from Daryl, eyeing him suspiciously whenever he got up to move, pee, or take watch. Rick couldn't help but be concerned that Michonne possibly wouldn't mesh with the rest of their tight knit group. He decided not to bring it up yet, hoping that once she got to know Daryl she'd accept him just like she did for himself and Carl.

They followed the train tracks until they came upon a foreboding tunnel carved into the side of a mountain. In front of the tunnel was a dead walker, it's chest cut open, and its blood used to write out a simple message.

_Glenn go to Terminus. Maggie, Sasha, Bob._

Rick stopped and stared into the blackened cavern, concern etched on his face. Daryl looked up at the rock wall on either side of it.

"We can't go up," he stated.

"What about around?" Michonne asked Rick.

"It'll take days to go around this mountain," Rick said, his eyes scanning the ceiling of the tunnel. "If we go through it'll probably take an hour or so."

"Maggie, Sasha, and Bob made it through. If they did it, we can," Daryl said with a nod.

"We know they went in. We _don't_ know if they made it through," Michonne pressed.

Daryl eyed her, and Michonne returned the look.

"They made it," Carl agreed. "We'll make it."

Loud snarls echoed from the depths of the cave. Walkers were in there.

Michonne turned to Rick and gave him a look that said she was skeptical, but she'd follow him if he said the word.

He sighed and looked from Michonne, to Carl, to Daryl.

"We can do this," he said with a nod of his head.

Their flashlights were the only sources of light in the darkness. Water dripped from the tunnel's ceiling high above them, occasionally bouncing off their heads, or creating an ominous chorus of dripping that echoed down the tunnel. The tunnel smelled of mold, mildew, and rotting flesh, and it was several degrees colder and much more humid than the air outside. Off in the distance, the growl of walkers were unmistakable.

In the back of his mind, Rick considered that the sounds might be the growls of their friends, long undead in this abandoned tunnel, but either way he knew he had to find out.

"Well, at least we can _hear_ the walkers coming," Carl whispered, acknowledging that they couldn't see much beyond the beam from their flashlights.

Up ahead they spotted a dark mass that blocked the remaining tunnel. They turned their flashlights towards it and illuminated a wall of rubble twelve feet high. Pieces of the tunnel's ceiling had collapsed on the tracks below, and there was now a mountain of concrete and twisted steel.

Trapped amongst the wreckage were walkers. They clawed and waved their arms and legs from beneath the pile. A few heads were visible and they snapped and chomped their teeth at the group.

Without a word, the group approached the wall and began putting down the walkers that were reachable, until most of the growling had been silenced.

"We'll have to climb up and over the concrete one at a time. It looks like some of the pieces are loose, and the steel rods are sharp."

Rick turned to Carl. "You're the lightest. Think you can climb up and tell us what we're dealing with on the other side?" He asked.

Carl smirked and stuck his chest out slightly. "Yea. You got it."

He adjusted his book bag to make it easier to climb, and Michonne and Rick connected their fingers to create a step for Carl's foot, to boost him up the wall. Daryl shone his flashlight upward so Carl could see where he was going. Carl found a steady piece of concrete to hold on to, and scrambled up higher, finding cracks and pieces of steel to latch on to.

Rick watched from below, maneuvering himself directly beneath where Carl was climbing, willing to act as a pillow for his son if he happened to slip. Daryl observed Michonne. Her eyes were lifted upwards as she watched Carl as well, her brows furrowed in obvious concern. In that moment, Daryl could see how much Michonne cared about Rick and Carl, and he wondered how the bond between them developed so quickly.

Carl was almost to the top of the wall when he rested his foot on a piece of concrete and it slipped, tumbling down the pile and almost hitting Rick. Luckily, both of Carl's hands were holding on at the time, and he didn't lose his balance.

"You okay?" Rick called, staring up at his son in concern.

"Yup, I got it," he called down.

Carl continued to climb, finally resting his knees on the top of the concrete pile. Once he was on top, he shone his flashlight to illuminate the ground.

Dead walkers littered the other side of the wall. Some of them crushed by pieces of concrete, but others had been deliberately shot in the head. There was garbage nearby that signalled that someone had been camping there recently. Some puddles of wax from candles, and wrappers and cans from scavenged food were strewn on the floor in different spots.

"What do you see?" Rick asked.

"Dead walkers and garbage. Looks like someone stayed here for a while."

"Any live ones?"

Carl shone his flashlight across the floor underneath the pile, and then slowly let the beam move deeper into the tunnel. The light illuminated one walker, then two, then more. Drawn to the light, the walkers stumbled towards them.

"Yea, there's a few heading this way," Carl warned.

"I'll climb up. I can hold them off while the two of you get up there," Michonne said, already looking for a handhold.

"Hey, you have a hurt arm," Rick began to protest, but Michonne was already hoisting herself on top of the concrete. Figuring it would make more sense to help her than argue, Rick clasped his hands to give her a boost.

Michonne placed her foot in Rick's hands and he lifted her up a few feet where she could stand on a piece of concrete with her other foot. She pushed up with the foot that was anchored on the concrete, and climbed higher. When she was close enough to the top, Carl caught her right hand, helping to pull her up to the top of the pile.

Once on top of the concrete stack, she looked down to the other side and saw the walkers approaching.

"Carl, help your dad and Daryl get up here. I'm gonna take care of those walkers," she said, scanning the wall for sturdy footholds to get her down.

"No way, I'm gonna help."

"Carl..." Michonne said hesitantly.

"Michonne. I'm gonna help you."

Michonne rolled her eyes in defeat and squatted on the ground, inspecting the slabs of concrete below, precariously strewn on top of each other. Soft snarls came from underneath the pile, and Michonne knew there were a few walkers buried just under their feet. She carefully lowered herself onto a nest of steel that was twisted in many places. When it held up to her weight, she reached her hand out to Carl.

Meanwhile, Daryl boosted Rick up the wall, and when Rick found a steady foothold he turned around and leaned down, giving Daryl support to start climbing himself. They had seen Michonne and Carl disappear over the wall, and Rick wanted to get up there as quickly as possible to help them.

It seemed the wall was getting more and more unstable from two heavy men being on it at the same time. Rick could feel the concrete shifting and crumbling when he moved.

He looked down and saw Daryl carefully climbing below him. Daryl placed his foot on a piece of concrete, and the slab slipped from its position on the wall, tumbling down. It took many other pieces with it, and Daryl's foot was now not supported by anything, making him almost fall. The new missing piece of the wall revealed the head and one arm of a walker that had been buried. Its skin was completely scratched off from the concrete, but its teeth were still working, and they went right for Daryl's ankle.

"Daryl, watch it!" Rick yelled, staring on in horror.

Daryl swung his foot away from the snapping mouth, and then used the momentum to come back at the walker full force, his boot crushing the rotten thing's brain. It's body now hung limply from the wall, its flesh a morbid sort of cement that helped hold the pile up.

Daryl took a second to breathe and calm down from his dangerous encounter. He looked up at Rick sheepishly.

"I ain't made for rock climbing," he grunted.

"Neither am I," Rick agreed. "C'mon."

Daryl used the walker's head as a platform to boost himself up higher, and once Rick made it to the top, he reached down to give Daryl the final lift to the top of the wall.

Michonne got to work, swinging her katana at groups of walkers at a time. Each swing decapitated at least two, and they were dropping like flies in a semi-circle around her. Carl was beside her, using a knife to puncture the skull of any walker that got close enough. The two of them working together as a team was a sight to behold.

When Rick and Daryl made it to the top of the pile they were greeted by the sight of Michonne and Carl taking down the last of the walkers.

Rick stared as Michonne's katana glinted in the dim beam of his flashlight, slashing through any flesh it touched like a guillotine. After Michonne hacked through a skeletal woman, she turned and watched calmly as Carl stabbed a particularly rotten man in the eye socket.

When the Walker fell, Carl turned and faced Michonne with a proud smirk on his face. She held up her hand and gave Carl a high five, and a proud pat on the back. Daryl gazed at the walkers strewn at the pair's feet.

He nodded slightly and muttered, "alright then."

Rick and Daryl made their way down the wall as Carl and Michonne searched the pockets of the walkers for anything useful.

Daryl studied the garbage strewn around the area, and the remnants of a recent cooking fire. He held up an empty can of corn and sniffed it.

"I dunno if it was them that did all this, but it could've been."

"We might be right behind 'em" Rick said, "let's pick up the pace."

A few hours before sunset the group made it to the gates of Terminus. Rick had insisted they stop following the train tracks directly, and they approached the large compound through the surrounding woods.

"We wanna see them before they see us," he'd explained.

They advanced on the gates overgrown with bushes and shrubbery with caution, and peered at a large building surrounded by train cars and tracks coming from every direction. It was still on the inside, and eerily silent. There were no signs of people, or even look outs. The word Terminus was painted on the boarded up windows of the main building.

"We all spread out, watch for a while, see what we see. We all stay close," Rick whispered.

Daryl nodded and headed off in the opposite direction, his crossbow at the ready. Carl turned to follow after him.

"You wanna stick with me?" Rick asked, somewhat taken aback that his son was leaving with Daryl.

"That's alright," Carl muttered, not bothering to turn around.

Rick gazed after his son for a few seconds, his eyes betraying his disappointment, before turning to see Michonne standing there.

A quick tilt of her head and a sympathetic tightening of her lips signalled that they should keep moving. Rick glanced back at the direction Carl had gone one more time before continuing forward with Michonne.

The two of them scoped out the area in silence. It was amazing how effortlessly they communicated. A hand up in the air, freeze. A tilt of the head, let's go that way. A widening of the eyes, I heard something. For five minutes they walked around the perimeter, using only their bodies to communicate, and somehow it was as if they'd been speaking the entire time.

Finally, Michonne broke the silence.

"He's just upset about what happened with those two men," she explained. "He told me while we were walking. He… he realized what could've happened. What almost happened. He'd just wanted to help."

"I know," Rick said quickly. "I know. Even with everything that's happened, all the things he's been through, after everything. He's still a good man. Better than I'll ever be. He tries to harden his heart, I see it, but I know."

Rick sighed and chanced a glance over at Michonne.

"A few months back, I thought he was losing who he was. There was something that happened, something he did that scared me so much that I took his gun away. I thought he was becoming…"

Rick turned back towards the gate they were following, staring into Terminus' empty courtyards.

"I thought he was becoming like how I am now. But now I see that I was wrong. Carl, he does what he has to do, but he's still a good man in his heart. And I'm proud of him. I am."

Michonne stood next to Rick, following his gaze to Terminus.

"You're a good man in your heart too," she stated softly.

He slowly swiveled his head, watching her out of his peripheral vision, but she turned and continued walking down the fenceline away from him.

He took three steps to follow her when he heard Daryl's birdcall. They both spun around and hustled back to Daryl and Carl's position.

When they approached, Daryl and Carl were staring through the fence, their weapons raised. Michonne and Rick joined them and watched from afar as Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Bob, and a few other people were pulled from one of the train cars and led somewhere with their hands tied around their backs and gags on their mouths. A group of people, all heavily armed, were escorting them.

Rick's stomach dropped as he realized that this place, Terminus, was going to be another dead end. But his first priority was to free his friends from this group.

They followed the captives along the fence line until they reached a back storage area that was set up with a horse trough, a few medical tables, surgical equipment and gurneys stolen from a hospital, racks for drying meat, and a huge bonfire. A man practiced swinging a bat with a sick smile on his face, as another nervously sharpened a huge knife, and Glenn glared at them as he walked by.

Rick was unsure what all the equipment and items were being used for. Either they were doing surgery or cooking dinner, either way it wasn't good.

The group of captives were made to stand in front of the trough, and then they were systematically forced to their knees and their feet were zip tied.

"Daryl, you shoot the ones with guns that are in range of your arrows. Michonne, Carl, we go in and take out the rest. We're low on ammo so make sure you aim when you fire."

Rick looked into his son's eyes. "Carl, stay close to me, okay?"

Carl nodded and took the safety off his gun, his eyes narrowing in determination.

Like well trained soldiers, the four of them got ready for war. Rick removed the coat he'd stolen from the Claimers, and threw it on the sharp barbs that covered the top of the gate surrounding Terminus.

Daryl, who was still watching through the gates whispered, "you'd better hurry, they're talking to them but I think they're about to do something big."

Rick boosted Michonne over the fence first. Although the gate rattled terribly as she climbed, they figured this was an emergency and subtlety wasn't going to work at this point. Carl was right behind her.

"What the fuck!?" Daryl whisper yelled. Rick, Michonne, and Carl all turned to see what he was looking at and watched in horror as two men slit the throat of one of the men in front of the trough and then pushed his head down so his blood would drain into the basin.

Carl's mouth dropped open and Michonne looked like she wanted to throw up. The captives all began screaming through the gags on their mouths. Rick flipped himself over the fence, just when a metallic thud sounded as the next man in line was hit in the back of the head with a metal baseball bat. He slumped into the trough, and seconds later his throat was slit as well.

"Now!" Rick hissed to Daryl, and he released an arrow through the fence. It struck it's target, lodging into the forehead of the man with the bat. The man touched his head in confusion and then slumped to the ground. His bat smashed to the floor and rolled before the man's body dropped.

Glenn, who saw the arrow lodged in the man's head began searching the fenceline, knowing exactly where the arrow came from. The other guards, and the man who was next in line to be killed, blinked in confusion, and Rick took the opportunity to shoot the man who was holding the large knife in the face.

Michonne came up behind a distracted man with a machine gun and decapitated him with one slice. Carl shot a woman who was reaching for her radio. The remaining Termites ran for cover behind the train cars, and Rick and Michonne chased them as Carl cut the restraints off of Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, and Bob.

He hesitated at the remaining people, and Maggie confirmed "they're our friends!"

Once they were all set free, the others picked up the weapons the dead guards had dropped.

Daryl hopped the fence, and in a few seconds Rick and Michonne had rejoined them, having chased the living men into one of the buildings.

There wasn't any time to catch up, they had to get out of here.

"Are there more of them?" Rick asked, scanning the yard.

"Yea, lots. They almost had us on shish kebabs," a large muscular man with bright red hair stated. He picked up the knife and baseball bat that the dead men had dropped. "We need to extract ourselves. Now!"

Gunfire broke out from somewhere else in the compound.

"There's a herd comin'. Heard it on their walkie," Bob said. "That's probably where the gunfire's from."

A door behind them swung open and gunfire erupted as the Termites fired at them, now with reinforcements.

"Carl, get down!" Rick screamed as he shot the first man who walked through the door.

It was chaos as everyone with a gun used it. Michonne, who was gunless, watched in amazement as this group of survivors worked like a well oiled machine, shooting and retreating, and covering themselves and others. She wondered if they'd ever had military training together.

Rick was impressive as he mowed down the advancing Termites, but so was the large red-headed man who got three successive headshots without breaking a sweat.

It soon became clear that Michonne would need a gun in order to be helpful in this fight. She saw a Termite woman laying dead with a large rifle slung across her chest. She crawled over and pulled on the gun to dislodge it from its owner, but the woman was playing dead. Her eyes snapped open and she lunged for Michonne's neck. Within seconds she had an arrow through her skull.

Michonne turned quickly enough to see Daryl give her a quick nod before aiming another arrow elsewhere.

Michonne snatched the gun and gave cover so that Daryl, Carl, and the others could retreat back towards the gates they'd climbed over. They hid behind a train car as the Termites advanced on their position.

"We're just gonna have to make a run for it. Once we get some people on the other side of the fence they can give cover to the rest of us," the red-headed man stated.

"That's a suicide mission," Rick snapped. "They'd never make it to the gates."

"Well what do you propose?" the man snapped back. "Either we run to the gates and get shot, or we hide here and get shot!"

"We don't…" Rick started, but he was cut off by fire from the opposite side of the fence, directed at the Termites.

"What in the…." the red-head exclaimed.

"Go! Let's go, we're covering you!" a voice yelled from behind the fence. Bullets flew and the Termites scattered.

"Fight to the fence!" Rick screamed, grabbing hold of Carl and Michonne and pulling them forward.

They began to climb, throwing themselves over the jacket that Rick had placed on the barbs. Rick stood behind the group, providing extra cover, even as the mystery people on the other side of the fence mowed down Termites along with him.

"C'mon!" someone screamed, and Rick tore towards the fence, momentarily forgetting about his barely healed injuries and throwing himself over. He yanked his jacket off the fence, before turning to see who had saved his life, and watched Carol and Tyrese, blowing away Termites. There was no time for a reunion.

"Let's get out of here!" Tyrese bellowed, and they all took off into the woods.

"That way!" Rick pointed, but Carol yelled "No! You have to come with me, Rick."

She grabbed his arm and led the group down a small path until they came upon an abandoned car with a sheet tied to the front hood.

Unsure, Rick followed Carol, as the rest of the group watched their surroundings vigilantly. Carol walked straight up to the car and threw open the back door. She reached in, and slowly pulled out a baby.

As soon as Rick saw her he dropped his bags, his gun, everything that he was holding, and he ran to her, tears already clouding his vision. A smile broke out across his face as he snatched his child from Carol's arms and squeezed the baby girl tightly, subconsciously remembering not to crush her in his excitement.

His knees bent as his body flooded with emotion, and he couldn't believe that he was holding his daughter in his arms. Judith, the child he'd thought dead. The child Lori had given everything to keep alive. Judith was alive.

Somehow Carl was right behind his father, cuddling Judith and rubbing her blond head.

"Judith. You're okay," he whispered, shock obvious in his voice.

Rick kissed his daughter's forehead and closed his eyes, pressing his cheek against her ear. She's alive. She's here. He still couldn't comprehend it.

Michonne stood a few feet away, watching the touching reunion. She couldn't have been more happy for Rick and Carl. Reunions like this, finding his entire group and then finding his infant daughter, they just didn't happen in this world. And yet, it did. She smiled and watched as Rick hugged Carol, and patted Tyrese on the shoulder, before returning to Carl. Carl pressed a kiss to his sister's cheek, and Rick took both of his children into his arms, embracing them tightly.

**_Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your continuing support of this story, and your reviews. They mean a lot._**


	11. Chapter 11

"They don't get to live," Rick stated, still holding Judith in his arms. "We go back in, take them out one by one, then search for supplies. There's gotta be something in those big warehouses."

"Are you shitting me?" the large burly redhead interrupted. "We're already out, we need to keep going."

"Look. If we don't make sure they're dead, they may come lookin' for us. Then what?" Rick asked, his eyes searching the group for a person who agreed with him. The other eyes diverted their gazes, all except Michonne. She stayed silent, but gave him a small nod that she agreed with him.

"Rick, we got away," a young Asian man stated, taking a few steps forward. "They're not following us, and a herd is tearing through their place as we speak. Let's get out of here. You just got Judith back, are you willing to risk her safety?"

Rick let out a sigh and glanced down at his daughter, and then locked eyes with his son. When no one else spoke, he reluctantly picked up his backpack.

"Let's go," Rick reluctantly muttered.

The group followed Rick's lead, traveling in a tight formation that they almost naturally fell into. Michonne was immediately impressed by how competent everyone in the group seemed, except for a man with a mullet who the redhead was obviously protecting since he never left his side. Michonne was curious about their relationship and how they ended up being an unlikely pair.

Rick and Daryl led the way in the front, followed by the Asian man who'd opposed Rick's suggestion to return to the Terminus compound, and a young white girl who was almost certainly his girlfriend.

Behind them was another couple. A young black woman with light brown skin, and her apparent boyfriend who was giving her heart eyes when he wasn't scanning the trees for walkers. They happily whispered together, playing some kind of game that made them occasionally laugh and steal a kiss. Michonne was dumbfounded about how they could be in such good spirits in their current situation, but to each their own.

Michonne, Carl, and his baby sister were behind that couple. Behind them was an older white woman with short graying hair, and a large muscular black man who was built like a linebacker, who wore a beanie hat on his head.

And holding up the rear was the redhead who definitely was a military man, and his unlikely companion who seemed afraid of his own shadow if not the rest of the group.

It was a strange mix of personalities to be sure, but one thing that was clear was that they all had a deep respect for Rick. No one questioned his authority, or asked him where he was going. They just followed. Even the young man who'd convinced Rick not to go back into Terminus didn't question Rick's orders beyond that.

Michonne noticed eyes on her, especially from the older white woman, and the redhead. She was sure they were curious about where she'd come from and who she was, but the priority now was safe shelter before sundown.

As they walked, two female walkers emerged from the woods and made their way towards the group with uncoordinated stumbles.

"I got 'em," Michonne said nonchalantly. She unsheathed her katana, drawing the whole group's attention, and waited for the walkers to come to her. As the others walked past her curiously, she cut through both walkers' skulls simultaneously, with one swipe. Rick paused for a moment to watch her work, and nodded proudly when she dispatched the corpses. Abraham let out a whispered "shit," as he walked by.

Michonne stopped to wipe her blade on one of the walkers' shirts before resheathing her weapon and continuing on with the group.

As she passed, Abraham whispered to Eugene, "right there is why we're waiting for our moment."

"Duly noted," Eugene said with a nod.

Abraham kept his eyes on the dark skinned beauty with the sword, watching as she continued walking next to the teen and the baby. He then noticed Rick staring after the woman as well, seemingly checking out her well endowed behind. As Abraham digested this information, Rick's eyes suddenly found his own, and Abraham stared back at Rick for a few seconds before looking away.

Hours later, they'd gotten a few miles away from Terminus, and they began to relax slightly. More hushed conversations had broken out between the travelers as they had time to catch up on what had happened since they'd last seen each other. But despite talking, they were still vigilant, each snapping tree branch or walker groan causing the group to stop and listen.

"How'd you get so good?" Rick asked Michonne as they trekked down the road, no true destination in mind.

She was lost in her thoughts, and for a moment she had no idea what he was talking about.

"With the sword?" she asked. "It was just me and them out here all day every day, for a good long time. I learned quick. Had to, or I wouldn't survive."

"Well you're a force to be reckoned with with that thing. I'm glad you're on my side."

Rick's heart fluttered when Michonne's lips burst into an amused smile.

"Almost wasn't. You're lucky you didn't get a sword through your eye for the way you burst in on me when we first met."

"Why didn't you stab me?" Rick asked, getting serious for a moment. "I was pointing a gun in your face, but I wouldn't have pulled the trigger. You could've had me. You almost did."

Michonne looked over at Rick and allowed her eyes to search his face. He seemed to be genuinely curious about the answer to that question.

"Carl was there," Michonne said with a shrug. "He would've shot me for sure if I'd tried it. And… I could tell you were good. Somehow I knew."

The two of them walked in silence, thinking about her answer, but the silence was interrupted when the baby who'd fallen asleep on her brother's chest awoke and began to get fussy. She let out warning cries that were soon to turn into a full on tantrum. Carl gently bounced her, but to no avail. The large black man with the beanie hat reached into his bag and pulled out a teething ring.

"This has done the trick once or twice," he said, handing the ring to Carl.

"Thanks Tyrese," Carl said gratefully, placing the toy in Judith's hands. She immediately brought the toy to her mouth and all was quiet again.

Rick smiled when he saw the trick had worked.

"I can't thank you enough, for what you did for my daughter," he said to Tyrese. "It couldn't have been easy, traveling by yourself with a baby. One that wasn't yours to care for. I'm so grateful."

Tyrese nodded at Rick. "Ain't nothing to thank me for, and I didn't do it alone. Carol and I did it together. It was the right thing to do."

Rick glanced gratefully at both Tyrese and Carol, wondering if Tyrese knew that Carol was the one that murdered his girlfriend. Wondering how they'd met up after Rick had banished Carol from the prison. Wondering how they'd taken care of his baby and what they'd had to go through on the road. But now wasn't the time to discuss the past.

"We have to find shelter now," Rick said, glancing at his daughter. "It'll be dark in a few hours, we can't be picky. Everyone wait here, Daryl and I will scout further up the road."

"I'll look for water," Carol stated.

"I got watch," the redhead bellowed.

"Firewood!" Glenn and Maggie said simultaneously, and suddenly everyone had a job, effortlessly splitting up to handle some need that had to be addressed.

Michonne wasn't used to dividing up chores. When she was on her own she had to depend on herself to find firewood, find water, find shelter, and find food. It was off putting to have so many people to do those things, and it had her wondering what she should be doing.

Rick was gone, so she made her way over to Carl and Judith, deciding to take watch next to them as Carl kept his sister occupied and silent.

"How long have you known all these people?" she asked Carl, watching as they moved about, completing their tasks.

Carl shrugged. "I don't know, a long time. We've known Daryl, and Carol, and Glenn, since everything started," Carl explained, gesturing to the people he was referring to so Michonne could learn their names. "We met Maggie on a farm that we stayed at. Her dad, Hershel, he saved my life."

Michonne's head turned to Carl in surprise, back to Maggie, and then to Carl. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"I got shot. It was an accident, but I almost died. Hershel was a nice man. We lived with him on his farm, but then walkers came and destroyed it. Then we found a prison. That's where we met Sasha, and Tyrese, and Bob. But the Governor, the man who destroyed our home, he killed Hershel."

Michonne felt a pang in her heart from Carl's words. How much had these people gone through?

"The Governor was an evil man," Maggie, who was searching for firewood nearby and overheard their conversation said. She'd moved several feet closer while she'd listened to Carl tell his story. Michonne could see tears in the woman's eyes, but she also recognized the rage behind them as well. "He's dead now though. And we're still alive, and together. We won."

Tyrese nodded. "We did. We're survivors. And we're gon' keep on surviving. We'll find a safe place."

Michonne pointed her chin at the redhead and his sidekick. "And who are they?"

The redhead turned around. "My name is Sergeant Abraham Ford, and this is my companion Dr. Eugene Porter. We met Maggie, Glenn, Sasha and Bob while waiting to be turned into mince meat in those train cars at Terminus. We're new to this group. And you are?"

"Michonne," she said.

"Well Ms. Michonne, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've noticed you can handle yourself with that sword. Skills like that make you a very sought after woman indeed."

Michonne simply stared at Abraham, unsure of where he was going with his assessment of her. She didn't have time to think much about it, because a few minutes later, Rick and Daryl returned and led the group to an abandoned church that they'd discovered down the road.

It was a small traditional Episcopal church, with stone walls and painted glass windows. It was devoid of brush directly around its perimeter, but was surrounded by forest on all sides.

Once the church was cleared, the group had time to explore it. Rick mentioned it had been locked when they found it, they'd had to take the whole front lock off to get inside. It had been amazingly well maintained, and the floors had been swept, and possibly mopped, a few times since the apocalypse. Used candles and books lined the desks and floors of the Rectory, and an old couch had been used as a bed, as it was covered with a few pillows and a blanket.

Empty cans of food were stacked neatly inside and outside the church, and a notebook revealed someone's attempt to copy the bible word for word.

"Looks like someone made this place theirs," the man Michonne learned was Bob said. "They might not like it if we make it ours."

"Doesn't look like too many people were living here," Rick assessed, his eyes scanning the church's sanctuary. "One or two, tops. We can handle it if they come back."

Rick scanned the treeline from the closest window to him. "Daryl," he stated, and he didn't have to finish his sentence. Daryl had already turned and headed towards the door to scan the woods. Abraham and Eugene headed to the parking lot in the back of the church to check out an old bus that they'd noticed.

The others took the opportunity to rest with an actual roof over their heads. They organically spread out to different areas of the church, forming small pockets away from each other, but still interacting as a group.

Michonne positioned herself on a pew near the altar of the church. She rested her elbows on her knees, as she eyed the others, none of which were paying her any mind at the moment. She had to admit she still felt like an outsider with these people. Rick and Carl were the only people she really knew and interacted with.

Carl approached her pew, startling her, and dropped his bag on the ground next to her. He placed Judith on the ground and began pulling a sleeping bag and other supplies from his backpack.

"You getting comfortable?" Michonne asked, her eyes focused on the little girl who immediately took to pulling at the church's fluffy carpeting.

"Why not? We have four walls and a roof. It's safe here. We're probably gonna stay the night." He pulled a blanket and laid it out on the ground before lifting Judith and resting her on top of the blanket. Carl plopped on the blanket besides her, and the girl determinedly squirmed her way towards him, reaching out her pudgy fingers. Michonne figured she was only a few months old, she could barely even crawl. It was a miracle that she was still living.

Carl lifted the baby into his lap and she immediately grabbed his long hair, making Carl chuckle in amusement.

"Judith!" he sighed in mock annoyance.

Michonne couldn't help but smile.

"You're good with her," she complimented.

"Yea, I've had lots of practice. When we were in the prison I babysat her a lot."

Judith gurgled and pointed a finger at Michonne.

"Mich-onne," Carl said, slowly pronouncing the word for his sister. "This is Michonne. She's nice, you're gonna like her."

Judith babbled back at her brother, and placed the finger she'd been pointing at Michonne into her mouth.

Michonne smiled at the girl and allowed her eyes to wander through the church once again, observing the rest of the group reuniting and reconnecting with each other. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the young woman, Maggie, now talking to Rick, seemingly catching up.

Abraham entered the front door of the church with Eugene at his heels.

"There's a short bus out back. It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Looks like we found ourselves some transport," he announced to no one in particular. "Soon as its fixed, I say we get the heck outta dodge."

"Now that we can take a breath?" Michonne asked incredulously. This church was the safest shelter she'd been in, in a long time. Maybe they could fortify the place and make it something long term.

"We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably goes down," Abraham countered, his eyes turning to Rick.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next," Michonne stated, her brow furrowing in intensity. The rest of the group looked from Abraham to Michonne, curiously assessing the disagreement between the newcomers.

Rick gave a single nod, agreeing with Michonne immediately. "That's right. Water, food, ammunition, in that order."

The others nodded their agreement, the conversation about leaving ended for now. Abraham stormed over to one of the pews and plopped down in a huff, obviously frustrated about Rick's decision.

The group began preparing for camping out in the church for the night, when a shadow through one of the stained glass windows caught Michonne's eyes. Carl spotted it at the same time as her.

"I think someone's out there," Carl said, pointing as the shadow quickly disappeared.

Sasha, Rick, Tyrese, and Bob darted towards the church door, as everyone else pulled their weapons. Michonne ran after them and caught up just as Daryl appeared, holding a shaking man by the front of his shirt. He was dressed like a priest, in full black, with a white collar. He seemed remarkably clean and he certainly hadn't been sleeping in the woods for any period of time.

"Who are you?" Rick asked, looking the man up and down.

"I… I... I'm Gabriel. Father Gabriel," he stuttered.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick asked.

"Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

Rick glared at the man before roughly patting him down to make sure.

"What do you want?" Rick asked.

"This… this is my church. I… I live here," Gabriel said, his eyes scanning the group that surrounded him. "I just… I stepped out to look for food. I locked my church, and I came back and saw that it wasn't locked anymore. I wanted to see who was inside, but I got scared when you noticed me."

Rick nodded at Daryl and he let go of the priest's shirt.

"You live here? Just you?"

"Yes," the priest said, his eyes glancing downwards at Rick's gun. "But… if you'd like to share, you're welcome to it. All… all are welcome at St. Sarah's church."

Rick shifted his gun slightly and Gabriel audibly gulped. "Or… or if you want the church you can have it. I'm sure I could find somewhere else…"

"How many people have you killed?" Rick asked.

The priest froze, his frightened eyes flitting from one person to another.

"I… I haven't killed anyone."

"Why?" Rick asked.

"Because the Lord abhors violence."

Rick's eyes narrowed in disbelief that this man could have survived this long without killing anyone.

"How many walkers did you kill?"

"I'm no good with those things," he admitted. "Whenever I see one I run in the other direction."

"How did you survive here so long? Where did your supplies come from?"

"Luck. Our annual canned food drive. Things fell apart right after we finished it. The food lasted a long time and then I started scavenging a few weeks ago. I cleaned out every place nearby except for the food pantry. It's overrun."

"How many?"

"A dozen or so."

"We can handle a dozen or so," Rick said, looking at the group around him. "We'll have to hurry. The sun will be down in a few hours, but we could be back with dinner and supplies if we go now."

"Right now?" Gabriel asked, seemingly surprised at how quickly they made that decision.

Sasha stepped forward. "Bob and I will come with you."

"I'm coming too," Michonne said with a nod.

Tyrese and Daryl also nodded their agreement.

"Not you Daryl," Rick said. "I need you here on watch. Keep an eye on Carl and Judith for me."

"Well then, I'll draw you a map," Gabriel suggested.

"You don't need to. You're coming with us."

"I told you, I'm no good with those things."

"You're coming with us," Rick stated, his eyes boring into Gabriel's.

***can08writer***

"We're here. This was the food bank. It served the whole county," Gabriel said, pointing at an unassuming building in a strip mall. Rick threw the door open and everyone filed inside, weapons drawn. The floor and surfaces were covered with a thin layer of dust that flew up in the air as they walked across the wooden floor. They spread out and searched the storefront, quickly determining the building was empty, but they were shocked by a huge hole in the floor of the store.

Rick cautiously approached the hole, and the rotting floorboards underneath him creaked and groaned in protest. Michonne was directly behind him, as he peered into the hole that led to the basement. It looked like a swimming pool below them. The basement was flooded with at least three feet of water, and the fetid stench of mold, decay, and sewage caused Bob and Sasha to gag, and Father Gabriel to lose the contents of whatever was left in his stomach. Even worse, there was a dozen walkers sloshing through the muck, their skin rotted and bloated from the water they'd been soaking in.

Michonne looked up and noticed huge holes in the roof of the building.

"Water's been coming down that hole for a while. The rains we had a few days ago didn't help the situation."

"Where do they keep the food?" Tyrese asked Gabriel.

Gabriel had his nose and mouth covered by his shirt, and he pointed into the slimy sewage water.

"Well, we're just gonna have to go down there and get it then," Rick said. He moved closer, squatting down at the edge of the hole, and heard the rotting wooden floor creak dangerously beneath his weight. He held up his hand, warning the others to back up slowly.

When they were back on solid footing, he carefully backed away from the unsteady floor.

"This floor is compromised," he said. "No one walk anywhere near that hole. When we get down into the basement, try to avoid walking under that floor. It could collapse at any minute. We grab as much food as we can that managed to stay out of the water. If in doubt, grab a can and we'll sort through it later to see which ones are safe to eat."

"There are steps leading to the basement that way," Gabriel said, pointing to a door.

Everyone headed in the direction of the steps while Gabriel hung back, not making a move to follow them. Rick turned around and glared at Gabriel.

"Hey. I said you're coming with us," he commanded.

The water in the basement was worse than they imagined. There was a thick slick of slime and muck floating on the top, and Michonne didn't want to know what the brown pieces of debris were that floated past her. Luckily, the water reached just above her knees and she was able to keep her katana out of the slime.

The group worked together to push large storage shelves in the way of the walkers so they couldn't reach them. Once the walkers were contained, they picked them off one by one.

Gabriel hung back behind the group, shaking nervously and being of no help. Michonne wondered why Rick insisted he come down there with them. It was obvious the man had no survival skills when it came to walkers or even people. His existence was nothing short of a miracle.

"Alright, let's start packing what we can," Rick called once all the walkers had been dispatched. Everyone spread out in the water, filling book bags and containers with whatever salvageable canned goods they could find.

"Hey, I found a box full of cans of formula over here!" Tyrese announced. "Looks like we hit the lotto for Judith, Rick."

Rick, who was in the process of stuffing his bag full of creamed corn let his mouth drop open.

"That's great news, Tyrese. Looks like we're all gonna have a good meal tonight."

Michonne could hear Sasha and Bob chatting together as they stuffed a floating plastic container full of amazingly dry boxes of noodles, and mac and cheese.

"Food that's been soaking in a sewer for weeks?" Sasha asked her boyfriend.

"Full bellies," Bob replied. Sasha chuckled. He was a little too skilled at the 'Good out of the bad' game. She sidled up to Bob and whispered in his ear.

"Being soaked to the bone in sewer slime?"

Bob leaned over to Sasha and gave her huge smile. "Taking those wet clothes off with a pretty woman." He leaned over and gave Sasha a peck on the lips.

Michonne didn't want to overhear their game, but she was a captive audience, stuck in a tiny flooded basement. Besides, there wasn't much privacy anymore for anyone.

She glanced over at Rick and was shocked when she caught him staring at her. He didn't seem to expect her to turn around because his eyes were firmly plastered on her behind. She gazed at him for three seconds before he realized she was looking. As soon as their eyes met and he realized he'd been caught he quickly turned away, shoving a random can that was covered in slime into his bag.

She continued to stare after him in indignation while he refused to make eye contact with her again. When she finally turned away from him she couldn't restrain her smirk.

A loud creak coming from the floor above them made everyone freeze in place. There was a brief pause and then an ear-splitting screech began, like something heavy was being dragged across the floor.

"What is that?" Sasha asked, eyes wide.

They simultaneously pulled their weapons and tried to see up through the hole in the basement's ceiling. Creaking and screeching continued, coming from the rotten area of the ceiling, and then more distinct creaks, like footsteps walking above them.

"That can't be walkers," Tyrese said.

Michonne's heart began to pound in her ears.

"Get upstairs," Rick growled, sloshing towards the basement steps leading back upstairs. They all moved to follow him when there was another loud scratch and then a crack. Michonne glanced up and saw a movement from above, before the entire ceiling came down on her.

Rick was trying to get to the steps as fast he could. It sounded like someone was walking around upstairs. Like someone was moving something heavy. He had made it to the first stair when he heard the crack, and somehow he just knew what it was. Before he could yell a warning, tons of material from the ceiling above them collapsed into the water below, followed by an entire clothing rack from the store above.

Rick stared at the collapse in horror. He didn't know if he should continue up the stairs or go back to the basement before he realized Michonne, Tyrese, and Bob weren't behind him.

"Bob?" Sasha screamed, turning around to face the piles of debris that floated on top of where their three friends used to be. "Tyrese?"

"What… what happened?" Gabriel stuttered, his mouth gaping open at the destruction. "What…"

"Michonne!" Rick called, hopping back into the sludge. "Michonne are you okay?"

There were creaks as the debris shifted and rocked in the sludge, but there was no sound from the debris area.

"God, they're under there! They're under there!" Sasha screamed, diving into the debris right behind Rick. The two of them began furiously pulling at pieces of wood, plaster, and metal, searching for the missing members of the group.

"Find them! They're gonna drown!" Sasha screamed, her panic spreading to Rick and Gabriel, but unlike Rick and Sasha, Gabriel's panic made him freeze. His back was pressed against the wall, scared to move in any direction, not even to help.

There was a large wooden beam laying in the water on top of a few large pieces of concrete.

"I think they're under this," Rick said attempting to lift the beam. Sasha chipped in, and it budged with the weight of both of them, but not enough.

"Help us!" Rick growled at Gabriel, gritting his teeth as he strained to lift the beam.

Reluctantly Gabriel stepped forward and grabbed hold of the beam. The three of them lifted, and the concrete underneath the beam began to float upwards. Suddenly a body appeared from underneath the debris.

"Tyrese!" Sasha screamed, almost dropping the beam in her desperation to get to him. He was floating on his face in the water.

"We need to move the beam to free the rest of them!" Rick yelled at Sasha. He knew she wanted to run to Tyrese and try to help him, but if she let go now Rick and Gabriel wouldn't be able to hold the beam on their own, and it would fall again and crush Michonne and Bob if they were still alive under there.

"Tyrese!" Sasha called, although she continued to hold the beam. They moved the beam a few feet away, just enough to free many pieces of debris that had been pinned underneath it. Clothing from the store began to float upwards.

Sasha ran to Tyrese and flipped him over. He wasn't breathing and had no signs of life.

"Tyrese!" she screamed, pounding on his chest to revive him. "Help me, please!"

Father Gabriel moved to assist her as Rick frantically searched the debris for Michonne and Bob. His foot bumped what felt like a body. He reached into the fetid water and grabbed a hand, pulling upwards to reveal Bob.

"I've got Bob!" Rick yelled, lifting Bob's head out of the muck. He tried to get his chest out of the water as well, but his foot seemed to be stuck under something. Rick checked for a pulse and felt a weak heart beat.

"Bob's alive but he needs CPR," Rick said. "He's not breathing, but he's got a heartbeat."

"I know CPR," Gabriel said. "Sasha, I've gotta work on Bob. We can't do anything for Tyrese."

"No!" Sasha screamed, holding on to her brother and shaking him frantically.

"Let me go help Bob, maybe I can at least save him," Gabriel demanded, hurrying over to where Rick was holding Bob's head. As soon as Gabriel grabbed hold of Bob, Rick was searching again.

_Where is she? Where is she?_ He thought to himself.

"Michonne!" Rick called again, pushing floating shelves and the remnants of the clothing rack that'd fallen through the ceiling out of the way. As he got closer to the basement wall he realized a shelf had been knocked over by the debris and was tilted and leaning against the wall. It was underneath the shelf that he found Michonne, the only part of her above the water was her eyes and nose, her head miraculously cradled between the shelf and the wall. The shelf was resting on her head with just enough pressure to hold it wedged against the wall, but not enough pressure to completely crush her skull. Her mouth was completely submerged.

She was unconscious, with blood running from her head wound, but she was saved from death by her nose just clearing the water.

"I found Michonne!" Rick called, sloshing to her location and examining the shelf that had almost crushed her. He reached out and touched her face, trying to rouse her. He tilted her head upwards to get her mouth out the water.

"Michonne, open your eyes. C'mon look at me."

She didn't respond.

Meanwhile, Sasha had reluctantly left Tyrese, and she and Gabriel were trying to clear Bob's lungs of water. They'd dragged him over to the steps and Gabriel was frantically doing chest compressions, as Sasha cried over him.

Rick pushed the shelf away from Michonne's head, freeing her. Immediately she floated to the top of the water, and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her over to the steps next to Bob.

Michonne was breathing, but she was completely out of it.

"I've got some breaths," Gabriel said, placing his hand under Bob's nose to feel his respirations.

"Oh God," Sasha said, glancing back at Tyrese who was still floating on his back in the water. "Can you try Tyrese, please? Please?" she begged Gabriel.

He sighed and looked at Rick. Rick could tell by Gabriel's expression that he'd confirmed Tyrese was dead.

"We can't do anything for Brother Tyrese," Gabriel said, immediately turning on his training as a priest. "All we can do is pray for his soul. But Bob and Michonne, we need to get help for them. We need to get them out of here. Okay?"

Sasha sobbed and looked down at Bob's still body. Her eyes scanned downwards until she noticed his foot still hanging in the water.

"Oh my God," she screamed. They all noticed it at the same time. His foot had been crushed and severed by whatever he'd been trapped on underwater. Blood was gushing from the wound, draining into the sewer water.

Thinking quickly, Gabriel removed his outer priest shirt and quickly wrapped it around Bob's leg the best that he could. Rick removed his belt and Gabriel used it as a tourniquet to tighten the hold and keep the shirt on the wound.

"Michonne has a head injury, Bob has a leg injury. We need to find a way to get them back to the church," Rick said while scanning the basement for anything useful.

"I saw a rolling dolly upstairs in the store, I can get it," Sasha said, hopping to her feet.

"No," Rick said, glancing upwards through the hole. "There were footsteps up there, I think someone was up there. They still may be, waiting for us to come up the stairs. We have to be careful."

"You think someone did this?" Sasha asked, her eyes scanning the ceiling.

Michonne let out a cough and then promptly threw up a steady stream of noxious water. Rick gently turned her head to the side and caressed her back as she retched again and again, her soaking hair clinging to her face and chest.

Her eyes opened wildly. "What happened?" she tried to get out, but she immediately threw up again, her body trying to rid itself of the disgusting water she'd swallowed. She couldn't stop gagging. Her mouth tasted as if she'd drunk from a toilet.

"Shhh, shhh, take it easy," Rick said, rubbing her back again as she continued to retch. "You're okay, don't move too much you hurt your head."

Michonne took a few deep breaths when she could catch her breath. "What…"

"The ceiling fell on you," Rick said. "I don't think it was an accident. We need to be quiet, we may be in danger."

Still confused, Michonne nodded and searched her surroundings. She looked down at Bob in shock, and then her eyes met Sasha's tear stained red ones. The pure grief that washed across her face told her that Tyrese was gone, long before she noticed his body, now partially submerged in the water.

Rick held out his gun and signalled to the rest of them to stay silent as he made his way up the creaky steps. He listened for any footsteps or sounds as he made his way up but it was silent. When he reached the top step, Rick scanned the store area. The door was open, when he was sure he'd closed it to keep walkers out. There were footprints in the layer of dust that covered the floor. Some he knew was theirs, but others led to where there was a group of clothing racks, and it was obvious someone had slid the clothing racks on to the unstable area of the floor, causing the floor to collapse.

He quickly cleared the store, making sure that whoever was there wasn't there any longer. He closed the front door again and returned to the basement where the others were waiting.

"Michonne, you wait here while we carry Bob upstairs. I'll come back down to help you up the steps."

"No. I'm okay, I can help you with Bob," she said, blinking a few times like she was trying to clear her vision. Her head was bleeding above her browline.

"You could have a concussion, you're not okay," Rick countered.

"I'm helping," she insisted, grabbing hold of Bob's arm. There was no time to argue, and they needed all the help they could get. Rick took one of Bob's legs. Father Gabriel took Bob's injured leg, and Sasha grabbed the other arm and his head. Together they slowly carried Bob's limp body up the steps and placed him on a dolly they'd been planning to put the food on.

"What about Tyrese?" Sasha asked. Her eyes were on the verge of flooding with tears when she said her brother's name.

"We have to leave him," Rick said. "We can't carry him back. Not like this. We'll come back for him, but right now Bob is bleeding to death. He's our priority." Rick placed his hand on Sasha's shoulder. "I'm gonna take care of him, and then we're gonna leave."

Rick headed back down the stairs for a few seconds and then returned. They knew he'd made sure Tyrese wouldn't come back as a walker.

Sasha sniffled and ran her knuckles across Bob's cheeks. "Okay. Let's go."

They left the bags of food they'd collected behind in order to travel as quickly as possible. Rick and Sasha acted as security as Gabriel and Michonne pushed the dolly with Bob back to the church. It took them nearly 20 minutes to get back, and in that time Bob's face turned ashen gray and his breathing rate had slowed significantly.

As soon as they were close enough Rick gave a whistle, and Daryl, Abraham and Carol came running out to meet them. They paused when they saw Bob's foot.

"His leg!" Sasha pleaded.

"Get Bob inside," Rick commanded, his eyes searching the area to make sure they weren't being followed.

"Help me please! Help me. Help me!" Sasha repeated, almost in a panic at how Bob's condition was rapidly deteriorating.

The others lifted Bob from the dolly and carefully carried him inside. Rick backed into the church slowly, scanning for sounds or movement in the woods surrounding the church. He couldn't see anything.

"Abraham, Daryl, Glenn," Rick called, bringing the men to him. "I need you to watch and patrol. Someone did this to us. They collapsed the ceiling down on us at the pantry, they still may be out there."

The men nodded and headed outside the church, closing the door behind them. Inside, Sasha was holding Bob's hand while Carol, Gabriel, and Eugene worked at trying to wash and tightly wrap Bob's wound. Maggie was cleaning Michonne's head wound while Carl hovered around her like a concerned mother bird, badgering Michonne for information about what happened.

Rick took a breath to calm himself down. He was angry, livid, because he suspected who did this. The only loose ends that they'd left behind. The people from Terminus had followed them. Glenn had convinced him to let it go, but he'd been right. If you let people live they come back to hurt you, and Tyrese, Bob, and Michonne had paid that price. The Termites wouldn't get a second opportunity. They don't get to live.

**Author's Note**: Hi everyone, thank you for sticking around and reading my story even though there are long breaks in between chapters sometimes. I need those breaks to decompress and also to think my plot through, and I've found if I wait I come up with even better ideas than if I quickly rush chapters out every week. I appreciate the readership, and also a special thank you to everyone who gives me feedback via reviews! Every single one is greatly appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Hi! Just to answer the question that I got a lot in reviews, Rosita and Tara are not in this story. They weren't necessary to the story and there already were too many characters, so I didn't include them. Enjoy!

"As much as I want to, we can't go back right now," Rick said to the others who were crowding around him in the darkened church. He'd just explained what happened while at the food bank, and the others were ready to do something about it.

"It's too dark out there, there are too many variables. We don't know where they are and how many. The best we can do right now is to stay in the church. We're secure here."

"What about Bob?" Carol whispered. "I couldn't stop the bleeding, not completely. He needs stitches and antibiotics. If he survives the blood loss, he'll die of infection."

"I have some thread and a needle," Michonne who was sitting on a nearby bench volunteered. She stood up too quickly and gripped the pew in front of her as her head began to pound. She tried her best to play it off because she knew Rick was watching her like a hawk, but the crinkle of his forehead told her he'd seen her discomfort. "It's not enough thread to close a wound that large, but I can get maybe a fourth of the way across."

"That's not enough," Carol said. She swallowed and glanced over at the closed door to the Rectory, where Bob and Sasha had been given some privacy. "He's not gonna make it."

Rick sighed and closed his eyes. Two deaths in one day was a huge blow to everyone, especially Sasha, but he couldn't think about that right now. He had to focus because the rest of them were still in danger.

"We'll hunker down here for the night. Pile the pews up against the windows as a barrier for bullets. We'll sleep in shifts and stay vigilant. That's all we can do right now."

Once the windows were barricaded and everything was double checked, they could only sit and wait for morning. No one could rest except for Judith who snuggled into her father's arms and slept with her head propped on his shoulders. Rick made a few laps around the church until he was sure she was fast asleep. He then made his way over to Michonne, whose legs were stretched out on a pew as she rummaged through her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Rick asked, sitting down softly so he didn't wake Judith.

"Something that might help Bob. I'm thinking maybe if we cauterize the wound we can stop the bleeding and the infection in one go."

"Maybe, but we'll have to build a fire for that. And we can't do that here, in a wooden church."

"What if we…"

"I don't think Bob would survive something like that," Rick interrupted. "He's barely hanging on now. Pressing a hot piece of metal to his leg will likely kill him."

Michonne took a deep breath and let her shoulders drop.

"Yea. You're probably right."

"He deserves to die in as little pain as possible, surrounded by people who love and care about him. That's what he deserves. That's what the people we love deserve."

Michonne nodded a few times and then quietly stared at the Rectory door, lost in thought.

"Are you alright?" Rick asked, leaning in closer to her. Maggie had used Michonne's headband as a holder to keep gauze pressed against her head wound. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but that didn't mean there wasn't any other damage.

"Yea, I'm fine," she said dismissively.

Rick reached out and touched Michonne's headband gently, his fingers barely making contact with her but the feel of them making goosebumps prickle up her arm.

"You're not fine," Rick said, leaning in closer to examine Maggie's handiwork. Michonne could feel his breath tickling the side of her face. She could smell his scent, full of sweat, and dirt, and sewer muck. Just like herself she figured, but she didn't mind it at all. It was nice to have someone ask how she was. It was nice to know he cared.

"I saw how you almost fell over a few minutes ago. You need to rest. We need you strong."

Michonne watched as Rick fretted over the placement of the gauze on her head. Her eyes ran up and down his face, sneaking lingering glances while he was preoccupied. When the bandage passed his inspection, he leaned back and steadied Judith on his lap.

"Are you keeping tabs on me?" she asked with an amused lilt to her voice.

"I'm just being observant."

"Is that what you call checking my ass out at the food bank?" Michonne asked, studying Rick for his reaction.

His eyes got wide for a moment and he let a small chuckle leave his throat before he snuggled Judith closer to himself to stall for time.

"You uh, had something on the back of your pants," Rick said weakly. He internally cringed at his lackluster excuse.

"You could've just told me. You were staring for a while," Michonne said, not allowing him to get off the hook that easily.

He narrowed his eyes and took a breath. He then gazed brazenly into her eyes and stated "well, it must've been something else then."

The look of unashamed desire on his face caught her by surprise. His lazer blue eyes cut into her, and she suddenly felt naked. She shifted uncomfortably and blinked a few times, but before she could come up with a witty comeback, the Rectory door creaked open.

"Bob is awake," Sasha said, her eyes swollen and filled with tears. "He wants to…" she sniffed but couldn't bring herself to say it. Rick knew what the ending of the sentence was. He wants to say goodbye.

Everyone stood and filtered into the small room, except for Abraham who was on watch, and Eugene who seemed to only go where Abraham was.

Bob was indeed awake, but his face was an unnatural shade of gray. It was obvious he didn't have too much blood left in his body, and the blanket that his leg rested on had been folded to hide the blood, but small red stains were slowly appearing through the weaving. The smell of blood permeated the room. He was breathing heavily, struggling for breath, but still he managed to smile at everyone who gathered around him.

"What?" he asked, "I got something up my nose?"

His humor resulted in a few laughs, even from Sasha.

"I just… wanted you all… here to say… thank you. You gave… me a family... again. You took… me in. And I need you… to keep… taking people in… when you can. If they're good. I know… you'll find a good… place…"

Bob took a moment to breathe, his speech taking a lot out of him. Sasha sat on the edge of his bed and caressed his hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. Michonne looked over at Carl and saw him wiping tears from his eyes. She covertly grabbed two of his fingers and rubbed them, letting him know it was okay.

"You'll find a place… like before." Bob took another big breath and rested his head back against his pillow.

"And most importantly…" He looked up at Sasha and gave a smile just for her. "Y'all gotta… take care… of my… girl. She… means… every… thing," Bob allowed his eyes to close as he spoke, "to… me…"

Sasha let out a sob and buried her face into Bob's chest. With great effort he lifted his hand and rested it on the side of Sasha's cheek, his eyes still closed.

Rick nodded his head and wiped a tear from his eye with his thumb. "We will," Rick said, glancing at Bob and then Sasha.

"You'll always be with us," Maggie added. "Part of us."

A smile spread across Bob's face. "I know."

The others came and squeezed Bob's hand, patting his chest or arms, letting him know that they cared for him, and then they slowly trickled out of the room. They could tell Bob was in his final moments, and they wanted to give Sasha time to say what she had to say to him. Maggie stood by the door in case Bob passed away and Sasha couldn't handle what had to come next.

It was strange how much waiting was part of their lives now. Waiting for death, waiting for dawn, waiting for vengeance.

A half hour later, sobbing was carried through the thin walls of the church. Maggie perked up after holding a vigil by the door. She gave Rick a nod and then entered the room. A few seconds later, Sasha emerged and was enveloped in hugs from everyone.

Michonne, Abraham, and Eugene watched this unfold as outsiders. The three of them were foreigners in a way, knowing this group less than anyone else. But Michonne was sure that these people thought of each other as true family, and it was clear in the sharing of Sasha's grief, and the comfort that the group offered her.

Michonne shed a tear from her seat on the pew. She wiped the stray drop with her thumb, and suddenly she had the sensation of being watched. She turned her head, and in her peripheral vision saw Abraham glancing her way curiously.

Perplexed and slightly suspicious, Michonne glanced at him to confront him. He gave her a quick nod of acknowledgement and turned back towards the church's front doors to resume watch.

Michonne didn't know what it was, but something about the military man and his friend unsettled her. There was something they were hiding, she knew it, but the group had larger issues to deal with.

As soon as sunlight broke, Rick, Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Carol left to get the food from the food bank and bury Tyrese's body. They knew they wouldn't be able to carry him all the way back to the church as well as transport the food.

Sasha demanded to go with them, to see her brother one last time. Sasha knew Rick was also going after the people who'd murdered her brother and boyfriend, and she wanted to be there, but Rick insisted she stay. Since those not going had to bury Bob, he convinced her that she'd be most helpful at the church.

Rick also shut down Michonne's demands to come along by begging her to stay and protect Carl and Judith. He knew mentioning her head injury and near death experience a few hours earlier wouldn't phase her, but she couldn't argue with helping to protect the children she was learning to love.

Considering Abraham was the only other battle capable adult left behind, and Michonne and Rick didn't fully trust him, she agreed. Eugene and Father Gabriel also stayed but they couldn't protect anyone, and Sasha was lost in her grief.

Rick led the others back to the food pantry, but before they went inside Daryl scoped out the exterior. He noticed tracks leading into the woods and broken branches.

"We'll check that out later," Rick said. Burying Tyrese and getting food was the first task on their list.

They cautiously made their way into the flooded storeroom, Maggie keeping watch at the door this time. Glenn and Carol gagged at the stench of sewer.

"God, I hope that smell isn't Tyrese," Glenn said, sticking his nose and mouth into his t-shirt.

"Might be," Rick said trying not to take deep breaths. Bodies decayed much faster when submerged in water.

They walked past the bags of food they were forced to leave behind, which sat right where they'd left them. They carefully made their way down the creaky steps and into the water.

Beams and debris were still floating around from the collapse, and the shelf that had trapped Michonne was still tipped against the wall. Rick knew somewhere amongst the rubble was Bob's foot, but there was a more pressing issue.

He scanned the water while the others looked on patiently. Slowly his forehead wrinkled in concern, and then his eyes narrowed in anger. When he was sure of his assessment of the situation, he let the words leave his mouth, even though he could scarcely believe it himself.

"Tyrese is gone."

"Are you sure he was dead? Maybe he was just unconscious. Maybe he looked…" Glenn began.

"He was dead," Rick snapped. The muscles in his jaw clenched. "I put a knife through his head myself, so I know he didn't wander out of here."

"You think it was them? Those freaks from Terminus?" Daryl questioned.

"I know it was them."

"What do they want with a dead body?" Carol asked.

There was silence as they each made up their own answers to that question.

"We're following the tracks," Rick stated. "Be on your guard, these people are capable of anything and we don't know what weapons they're packing."

***can08writer***

Michonne, Father Gabriel, Abraham, and Carl wrapped Bob's body up in old choir robes they'd found in the church, and carefully carried him outside. Sasha followed behind them clutching a shovel, while Eugene stayed inside with Judith.

They'd already dug the hole, and once they reached it, they laid Bob into it with as much dignity as they could manage.

Sasha stared into the hole with an anguished look on her face. She was breathing quickly, and her chest rose and fell in quick bursts. Her hands clenched around the shovel as she gripped it tightly, with her forehead furrowed.

No one spoke for a few minutes, waiting for a signal from Sasha as to what she wanted to do next, but when she continued to stare, Michonne took charge.

"Father Gabriel, can you please say a passage?" she asked.

He nodded nervously, glancing at Sasha whose lips had tightened into a sneer, but she now had silent tears running down her face. Two emotions were present on her visage, grief and rage. Taking the cue from her behavior, a passage came to Gabriel's mind.

"Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun. Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes. Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For those who are evil will be destroyed, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land. A little while, and the wicked will be no more; though you look for them, they will not be found. But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy peace and prosperity. Psalms 37 verses 5-12."

When he finished reciting, Gabriel turned to look at Sasha. She didn't seem to have heard anything that he'd said. Her mouth hung open slightly as she gazed into the hole without blinking.

"Sasha?" Michonne whispered.

She startled at Michonne's voice and finally glanced up at the other woman.

"Do you wanna… be the first to put the dirt in?" Michonne asked, gesturing to the hole with her chin.

Sasha blinked at Michonne and then followed Michonne's gesture to the hole as if struggling to understand what she was referring to. After a moment, she stumbled towards the hole, almost like a walker. She bent down and scooped a small amount of dirt up with the shovel, and dazedly dropped the dirt into the hole. Afterwards she immediately dumped the shovel and stumbled past the concerned onlookers and back into the church.

Michonne glanced at Carl, who was still watching Sasha with a concerned look on his face. When she entered the church's door, he turned back to Michonne, his eyes questioning.

"She'll be okay," Michonne said out loud, turning back to the hole.

Without a word, Abraham retrieved the shovel, and Michonne, Carl, and even Father Gabriel joined him in burying Bob's body.

***can08writer***

Rick and the others followed the trail of trampled grass and broken twigs from the food pantry. A few feet away from the pantry they found their first clue, one of Tyrese's shoes was wedged underneath a fallen log.

"Look at them marks right there," Daryl said, pointing to two lines on the ground where the leaves had been cleared from something heavy moving through them.

"Something was dragging him."

A few feet away was another clue. A wet sock. The group glanced at each other, dread washing over them.

Daryl put his finger to his lips, and they continued along the path, finding another shoe a few minutes later.

After fifteen minutes of walking through dense forest, they came upon the soccer field of an elementary school. The grass was waist high, and in the distance, two grazing deer took off into the woods at the sight of the group.

The field seemed empty, but they trekked through the grass until they came upon an area that had been recently trampled. The first thing Rick noticed was debris everywhere, clothing and other pieces of garbage littered the small area. An extinguished campfire was in the middle of the clearing, some of the embers still smoldering.

Rick's stomach dropped when he spotted the blood puddles that pooled on the fringes of the clearing, and then he began to recognize the clothing that was discarded in various areas. A long-sleeved blue shirt was crumpled in the corner. Dark jeans that were blood soaked were cut into shreds as if they'd been torn off with a knife. As they continued further into the circle of death, they found Tyrese's gun belt and khaki green backpack, and the final identifying item, his black beanie, was in a puddle of blood.

Carol gasped and placed her hand to her mouth. Maggie and Glenn looked like they were going to be sick.

"Where is he?" Maggie asked as she shook her head in disgust.

Daryl wandered a little further in the grass, following another trail of blood, while Rick approached the campfire. There was a metal rack placed over the fire pit, and as Rick moved closer a rage consumed him. He could see charred bones from a lower leg, with a small amount of cooked flesh still attached. Smaller bones that looked like they once belonged to fingers and/or toes littered the grass, as if they'd been tossed and discarded on the ground.

"He's here," Rick said, immediately turning away from the sight.

"He's over here too," Daryl called, his voice shaking slightly.

"God," Maggie commented, coming up behind Rick and beholding the fire pit with wide eyes.

"We're gonna kill them," Rick growled, "we end them. For everyone's sake."

***can08writer***

Michonne sat on the front steps of the church with her katana resting in her lap, lost in thought. Thoughts about the loss of two men from their group, thoughts about what Sasha was going through, thoughts about what she'd been through, and thoughts about what was next for them. It seemed like the misery never ended in this world. Just when things were looking up, something new came and slapped you back down to earth.

Absentmindedly her fingers ran up and down the dull side of her sword. Rick was out there right now, trying to find the people who'd almost killed her, and she was worried. She'd known Rick for such a short amount of time, and he was already dear to her. If he died on this mission she'd be devastated. She wasn't sure if she'd stay with this group or not without Rick, but she did know she didn't want to leave Carl.

She was sure he'd want to stay with these people if his father died. They were like family to him, so maybe she'd stay as well, or leave him and trust that these people would take care of Carl and Judith. She was sure Rick would want Carl to be with these people who loved him, and she cared about Carl and his father dearly. Sometimes she wondered if it was too dearly. Maybe she cared too much, maybe she'd gotten a little too involved.

She let out a deep breath and ran her hands across her tired eyes.

An unexpected creak from behind her had her on her feet, her katana aimed at Abraham's neck.

"Woah. We're on the same side, remember?" he asked, eyeing her sword.

Michonne slowly lowered her sword and turned around to face the woods once again. To her surprise Abraham lowered himself next to her on the step, and she gazed over at him wondering what he was doing.

"You okay? That knock to the noggin has gotta hurt," he said, pointing at the bandage on her head.

Michonne didn't respond. She didn't really feel like small talk, she had too many larger things to worry about. She wanted Abraham to leave her alone, so she avoided eye contact with him and squinted into the woods. He was unfazed by her standoffishness.

"So, you weren't part of their group before either huh?"

Michonne kept quiet once again, hoping he'd take the hint.

"It's a little overwhelming joining these people. If that's what I did. I'm not sure if they're not joining me. But it's better with them, having a large group like this. It's safer. They've got guns and they know how to use 'em. They know how to work together as a team. That's valuable nowadays."

Michonne made a small grunt of agreement.

"You don't talk much do you?"

"I _talk_ when I have something to say," she grumbled.

He laughed and leaned back against the steps. "Hey. Let's say I had a proposition for you. An offer as it were. Would you take it?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Eugene and I have a mission, something we've been keeping under wraps. We need a group of strong people to travel with us to Washington DC. He's a scientist, he was working on this… this plague, and he knows what started it, and how to fix it."

"What?" Michonne asked, more confused than anything else.

"I've been protecting him to get him to Washington, but the more people who come with us the safer Eugene is."

"Eugene is a government scientist?"

"Precisely. He's been talking to the higher ups in Washington on a walkie. A few weeks ago, we ran out of battery power, haven't found any more as yet. But we have every reason to believe there is at least a partially functioning government in DC. And if we get there, he can change it all back."

Michonne paused for a moment, trying to decide if Abraham was serious. She furrowed her brows and stared into his eyes, attempting to read his intentions.

"Why are you telling me this?" Michonne asked skeptically.

"I saw how you handled those corpses yesterday. We could use your help. Once we get to Washington and Eugene does what he needs to do, the world is gonna be like it was before…"

"It'll never be like it was," she cut in. The people lost, the lives destroyed, the survivors left, nothing would ever be like it was before.

"No. I suppose not," Abraham agreed. "But it'll be better than this. Anything's better than this. Right?"

"No. Not anything."

He smiled and nodded.

"I'm not sure if Rick and the others would be willing to join us on our dire mission. Looks like once this stuff with the Terminus people dies down Rick might want to stay here. We've been trying to figure out the best angle to present this to him, but I was wondering about you."

Michonne's eyes narrowed.

"When Eugene and I decide to head on up to Washington, whether Rick comes or not, we could use a woman like you with us. I need people who know how to handle themselves, and well… you're definitely qualified. Seems like you're one of the few that isn't already members of Rick and the gang so… I was hoping you'd consider it."

Michonne stared at Abraham skeptically. "You want me to be one of Eugene's bodyguards?"

"No, I want you to help save the world."

"If Rick is staying here, I'm staying here," Michonne stated.

"Y'know, seems like the only people you feel comfortable around is Rick and Carl. You don't really talk to the others. You and Rick, y'all got something going on?"

Michonne scrunched up her face and now turned to look at Abraham. She rolled her eyes at him and continued staring into the woods.

"What? You _don't_ like him? He's not your type? Maybe you like 'em strong and beefy? Red headed?"

Michonne shot up from her seat and turned to go back in the house.

"It's your turn for watch," she commented, heading back into the church without a second glance.

Abraham chuckled as she left him alone on the steps.

***can08writer***

The group surrounded the school, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol taking the back while Rick and Daryl scoped out the front. From what they could see the doors were locked and there was no one on watch, but Daryl had tracked footprints there.

It was Glenn who discovered the broken classroom window which they all used to climb inside.

The school's rotting linoleum floors creaked beneath their feet as they cautiously made their way out of the classroom and into the dark hallways. The only light came from other classroom doors that filtered in some sunlight from the windows.

Rick signaled to the group to watch the doorways leading to the classrooms. Someone could burst out of them at any moment.

They made their way to the end of the hallway, clearing each room as they went, until the hallway curved and led to a sign marked gymnasium.

Daryl crept forward on silent feet and cautiously peered through the double doors. The others waited with bated breath.

He held up six fingers, and then placed his hands on the side of his cheek like he was sleeping.

Rick came up behind him and checked it out himself. Six people were laying on the floor of the gym. Some were underneath blankets, while others slept out in the open. They all seemed to be in a deep sleep as if they didn't have a care in the world. As if their full bellies relaxed them enough to take a nap. Bellies full of Tyrese.

Rick almost snarled at the thought.

He gestured to his eyes with two fingers and motioned as if looking around.

Daryl shook his head. He didn't spot any lookouts.

Rick motioned for Glenn and Maggie to come closer and look for themselves. He wanted to make sure these people were really from Terminus. After looking through the window for a few seconds, Maggie nodded her head.

She pointed to one of the women and motioned that this woman had tied her hands behind her back. Glenn also nodded. They were the only two who had seen the cannibals up close, and Rick accepted their confirmation.

As quietly as possible Rick tried the handle on the gym door and found that it turned slightly. He pushed it harder and the door swung open with a loud creak, startling everyone.

The group rushed in as the Termites shot up from their sleep, disoriented and confused.

"Get on your knees!" Rick commanded, using a tone he'd used many times as a police officer.

One man with blond hair reached for a gun and Rick shot at him, removing three fingers from his hand.

The man screamed in pain, and the others dropped to their knees with their hands in the air. Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, and Carol surrounded the others, aiming their weapons.

"Who is in charge here?" Rick asked, pointing his gun at the man who was missing fingers. No one spoke.

"I guess it doesn't really matter anyway," Rick stated. "It won't change what happens to you. You_ all_ ate the meal, didn't you?"

"Please…" one of the women begged. "We're just trying to survive. Your friend was already dead. Didn't make any sense for him to go to waste."

"Because you people killed him!" Glenn shouted.

"I remember you," Maggie said, pointing her finger in the woman's face. "You tied me up and made a joke about tasting me."

The woman went pale and her eyes darted around.

"There's only six of you here," Rick said, glancing around and coldly staring at their trembling faces. "The six of you couldn't have eaten so much. The only things left of him were organs and bones that you didn't want. How many of you are there?"

The people looked around nervously.

"Where are the rest of you?" Rick asked calmly.

When there was no response, Rick took his knife and plunged it through the shoulder of the man who had already lost his fingers. The man screamed in pain, and Rick grabbed him by the hair to hold him still.

"Where. Are. The rest of you?" Rick asked again, his eyes narrowing.

"It's… it's just us," another man said. "The dead must've eaten the rest of him… I… I don't know."

Rick stared at the man in disbelief.

"You… you people destroyed our home. You took away everything we had. I mean, we were angry. We… we shouldn't have gone after you, but we had nowhere else to go. You don't have to do this. We'll go away and we will never cross paths again. I promise you."

Rick stared into the man's eyes.

"But you'll cross someone's path. Right? Y'know, you could've just taken the food. You had to pass the food in order to get to Tyrese. But you walked right by the supplies, dragged his body up the steps, and ate _him_. You _like_ eating people."

The man gulped and looked down at Rick's hand that gripped his red handled machete.

"He was your last meal," Rick growled, before slashing his machete through the man's face. Glenn, Maggie, Carol, and Daryl followed suit, hacking the group apart as they screamed in terror or begged for their life. Within minutes they were all dead, and the room was still, the smell of blood heavy in the air. Blood dripped from the walls and pooled on the floor. They stood amidst the bodies in silence, nonchalant about the death of such evil.

"That was for Tyrese, Bob, and Sasha, and whoever else they might have run into," Rick said softly. "Now, let's bury our friend."

The group left the gymnasium without stabbing the Termites in the head. They closed the doors behind them and left them in the room to tear each other apart.

***can08writer***

"Sasha, wait!" Michonne called, her fingers reaching out and grabbing the woman's arm. Sasha snatched her elbow from Michonne's grasp.

"Hey. Hey!" Michonne called, following the woman who was making a beeline for the church doors. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. I have to find Rick and the others. I'm not gonna just sit here."

"You're just gonna go out there by yourself? You don't even know where they are!"

"I'm fine," Sasha said dismissively. She threw the front door open, startling Abraham who was still on watch.

"Wait. You're not thinking straight. You need time to grieve…"

"Don't tell me what I need time to do. You don't even know me," Sasha snapped, storming down the church steps.

Abraham stood as Sasha headed down the driveway.

"You goin' off on a solo mission makes about as much sense as cleaning a dirty car with a muddy rag," Abraham called. "You're just gonna get yourself killed!"

Sasha continued walking, rage and sadness coming off her in waves. Michonne could relate to exactly how Sasha felt. She remembered when she'd just lost Mike and Andre. How hopeless everything had felt. How enraged she'd been. If there was anyone to go after when she'd lost her family, she would've gone after them too.

She made it as far as the tree line before multiple bullets whizzed through the air, one striking a tree near Sasha, a few others hitting the church.

Michonne and Abraham ducked down behind the barriers they'd created to barricade themselves in the church. Sasha took cover behind a tree. Abraham pulled his gun, aimed in the direction the bullets came from, and unloaded into the forest as he yelled for Sasha to run back to the church. He covered her as she zigzagged down the church driveway, also returning fire at whoever was shooting, and the three of them ran into the church and barricaded the doors.

"Carl!" Michonne called. He emerged from the Rectory with Judith in his arms. "We're under attack. Get down, stay away from the windows."

He nodded and immediately crouched down and shielded Judith.

"Gabriel, Eugene, the two of you need to grab a weapon and be ready to defend this place if you have to," Michonne directed them. "Aim, shoot. It's not hard."

"I don't know how to…" Gabriel began.

"Not Eugene!" Abraham protested. "He's not fighting. Eugene, you go hide in the closet in the Rectory."

Eugene, not waiting for a second opinion, took off into the Rectory.

"He needs to help!" Michonne argued.

"He needs to live," Abraham countered.

"I smell smoke!" Sasha yelled, interrupting their conversation. Michonne and Abraham joined Sasha by the door, and the smell of smoke wafted in from under the locked entrance.

"What the hell is that?" Sasha asked, sniffing the air.

Abraham climbed onto one of the pews blocking the windows and peered out the glass.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, his eyes getting wider. "They set the goddamn steps on fire. We need to get out of here ASAP."

Michonne, Sasha, and Abraham peered through the front windows the best they could, trying to figure out how to get out of the burning church without running straight into the enemy's sights.

It was then that Michonne spotted the five men standing just beyond the church steps, guns and torches in hand.

"We know you're in there," one of the men announced. "We're armed, so there's no point in hiding anymore. We've been watching you. Come on out of the church. You can't stay in there much longer anyway, unless you wanna die of smoke inhalation, or burn to death. Let's just stop this foolishness now before it becomes more painful than it needs to be."

"That's the same fuckers that almost ate us," Abraham announced with a scowl, pointing at the man who was speaking. "That prick right there is the leader, Gareth."

"We have to get out of here," Michonne said, searching the church. The smoke from the fire on the steps was steadily creeping under the front door.

"If they're smart, they got this place surrounded," Abraham said, trying to spot more of them from other windows.

"Maybe not. There's only one door out of here right?" Michonne asked. "What if we go through a window in the back? Or bust through the wall with an axe?"

"We should go out the front and gun them down," Sasha stated. "We can take them. End it all right now."

"There's another way out," Father Gabriel cut in, silencing everyone. He led them to the Rectory and showed them a hole cut into the floorboards that was hidden under the couch.

"I made this, just in case. You crawl under and it leads out to the back of the church."

"Gabriel, you lead the way," Michonne directed. "Carl, you take Judith. Stay right behind Gabriel."

Carl looked back at Michonne in concern, and his concern softened her heart.

"I'll be right behind you," she explained, touching his shoulder. "If the coast is clear, you take off into the woods."

Carl grasped Judith tightly against his chest and nodded before following Gabriel through the hole.

A roar sounded from the front of the church as the dried wood on the church's front door burst into flames. Thick gray smoke began filling the building.

"Eugene, come on," Abraham ordered, pointing at the hole. Eugene climbed in and followed the others outside, followed by Abraham, Michonne, and Sasha. The space under the church's floor was narrow, but they were able to crawl through, and found themselves outside the burning church, alone.

Abraham gestured at the woods, and they took off towards them, but one of the Termites began shouting.

"They're out! They got out!"

Sasha opened fire, her gun blasting through the man.

"Get out of here," she yelled to the others, and she took off, sprinting towards the front of the church, her rifle blasting away.

"We have to help her," Michonne declared. Her look told Abraham he had no choice in the matter. "Carl, you've got Judith, and protect the rest of them," she said, gesturing at Gabriel and Eugene.

Carl nodded and pushed Judith into Gabriel's arms. "Hold her," he commanded, and then pulled his gun.

Abraham and Michonne took off after Sasha who had disappeared around the front of the church. Gunfire boomed from that direction.

They cautiously peeked around the corner to see two dead men sprawled out in the dirt. A third was injured and attempting to crawl back into the woods. Sasha was hiding behind a tree and firing at two more that had made their way into dense brush.

Michonne grabbed a gun from each of the dead men, passing one to Abraham before she cautiously ran over to the man who was trying to crawl to safety. Meanwhile, Abraham joined Sasha and went after the men trying to get away.

When the injured man saw her coming, he flipped onto his back and pulled a knife. Before he could swipe, she kicked the knife out of his hand and pointed the gun in his face. Defeated, he put his hands up.

In a matter of minutes, the gunfire stopped. Sasha and Abraham returned from the woods to join Michonne in front of the church that was now engulfed in flames, heavy black smoke billowing from its roof.

The man looked at the three of them in terror.

"Why did you do this?" Abraham asked, peering down at the helpless leader, Gareth.

"We… we made a mistake," the man blubbered.

"How many of you are there?" Abraham asked.

"Not a lot. There was us, and… and then six more in a school."

Michonne immediately turned and scanned the woods. If there were more of them, they weren't safe. She walked away far enough to call Carl and the others from their hiding space. She gave a sigh of relief when they emerged from the woods unharmed.

"Keep an eye out, there are more of them," she called to Carl.

"Please… please I'm sorry," Gareth whined. "We didn't start off like this. There was a time when we tried to help people, to save other survivors. We only became like this when…"

Abraham cut him off. "You're from Terminus, right? You tried to slaughter us. You made the floor collapse in the food bank, you killed Tyrese, and Bob. I don't think anyone here gives a fuck about how you got like this."

The man's lip began to tremble. He scanned their faces, looking for a sympathetic one. Once his eyes met Sasha's he knew there was no chance for him.

"No point in begging. Right?" he asked.

Sasha, who was pointing her rifle at the man's head slowly lowered it.

For a split second Gareth looked relieved, but his face contorted to horror when Sasha turned the butt of the rifle towards him, and bashed him in the forehead, knocking him flat on the ground. She continued, slamming the rifle into his face again and again and again. Blood sprayed onto Sasha and the ground, as every hit drained more and more life from the man. She kept going, until his face was unrecognizable. Abraham and Michonne watched in stunned silence. For over a minute she bashed the man in the head, until Abraham placed a hand on her arm.

Sasha snatched her arm away from his touch, but her fit of rage was broken. She turned and walked off into the woods alone.

***can08writer***

The first thing Rick noticed was the smoke. It was the acrid smell of burning rubber and wood, and noxious fumes. His heart sank and he felt sick to his stomach when he realized the only nearby building that could be burning. Leaving the dolly full of supplies that they'd brought back, he took off in the direction of the church his family had last been in.

The group followed close behind, sprinting to the church, the thick trees blocking their view of the structure. But the smell, and the sound of a roaring fire was unmistakable.

When the church finally came into view, it was completely engulfed in flames, an orange fireball glowed through the stained-glass windows, and smoke poured from the old wooden roof. The front steps and door were completely burned through, the charred wood smoking ominously. But the most disturbing part was that the barricades they had set up by the windows and doors were still in place, suggesting that the occupants of the church were still inside.

Rick dashed to the building, pulling out his gun when he spotted the bodies of three men in front.

"Carl! Michonne!" he called, getting as close to the blaze as he could stand and screaming into the church. The flames were hot, and any proximity to the church would result in burns, but Rick didn't care.

"Carl! Michonne!" he screamed again, running from window to window, looking for a way to get inside

"They could be inside!" he yelled. He panicked, propping himself up on a piece of wood that jutted from the wall of the church, and raised his fist in preparation to break a window. Before he could do something foolish, Daryl grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Rick, they ain't in there" he stated, holding Rick back from leaping through the window.

Before Rick could reply, movement was spotted from around the back of the church.

Michonne emerged and walked towards them with a relieved smile on her face.

Adrenaline was flooding through Rick's body, and as soon as he saw her, he took off towards her. Before he knew what he was going to do he wrapped his arms around her back and hugged her, pressing her body against his own and lifting her off the ground in relief.

Both of them were surprised by his greeting, but Michonne allowed Rick to lift her with a chuckle. After a few seconds he put her down somewhat sheepishly.

"Carl and Judith?"

"They're in the bus out back," Michonne said, leading the group to where the others were.

"Dad!" Carl called, emerging from the yellow school bus with Judith on his hip, and a relieved smile spread across his face.

Rick pulled his children into his arms and kissed them each on the head. As soon as he was sure his children were ok, he took in the scene of Abraham, Eugene, and Gabriel working on the bus's engine while Michonne presumably stood watch.

"What happened to the church?"

"The cannibal assholes set it on fire after you left, with us inside," Abraham called. "If it weren't for the Father here, we'd be charred."

"They said there were more of them in a school…" Michonne explained.

"We found 'em," Daryl replied, "they ain't alive no more."

"You sure?" Michonne asked.

"I'm sure." Rick scanned the parking lot, the smoke billowing from the church irritating his eyes.

"Where's Sasha?" he asked.

"She killed the men who burned the church, then she took off. She's been gone about an hour. I think she needs space," Michonne explained.

Rick nodded. "We got the supplies. Enough food for a week at least if we ration. Any ideas of where we can go?" he asked Michonne.

She nodded slightly and turned towards Abraham, who was listening to the whole conversation while he worked. Sensing that this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for, he leaned back from underneath the bus's hood and faced the others.

"I know where we can go where we'll all be safe. Where the government is still working to come up with a solution to this mess. Washington DC."

The entire group turned to stare at Abraham. He had their undivided attention.

"Eugene and I were headed over there before we found ourselves in Terminus. Eugene is a scientist, he worked for the U.S. government, and he knows what caused this shithole of a situation, and how to solve it. I'm bringing him back to DC so he can do what he needs to do to stop the dead, and we need your group's help to do it."

Rick blinked at Abraham, not understanding what he was asking or trying to do.

"You mean Eugene can kill the walkers?" Glenn asked skeptically.

"He knows how to stop 'em. The entire fate of the human race depends on us getting to Washington. This is a time sensitive mission and we're already behind schedule and seeing as though our current shelter is on fire, I was hoping your group would join us."

Rick stared at Abraham, his mouth open slightly, his eyes flitting from Abraham, to Eugene who stood by the bus quietly, and back to Michonne for some sort of guidance.

"He told me about this earlier," Michonne added. "He asked me to come with him."

"How do you stop the walkers?" Maggie asked.

"That's classified," Eugene answered.

"You want us to go to Washington DC, following a man who claims to know the cure to the walkers, and you won't tell us what the cure is?" Glenn asked.

"Even if I told you all and I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustrations, the cure would still die with me," Eugene interjected.

"And I'm not gonna let that happen," Abraham added.

"Before we go on a cross country road trip, we're gonna hear why," Rick demanded, his eyes narrowing at Abraham and Eugene.

Eugene blinked and looked away for a moment before seemingly psyching himself up.

"I was part of a ten person team of the Human Genome Project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases. Pathogenic microorganisms with pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe with a little tweaking on the terminals in DC, we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire."

There was silence as the group digested what he'd just said.

"All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass," Eugene ended.

Rick continued staring at both Abraham and Eugene.

"All of us are survivors," Abraham said, stepping closer to Rick. "Each and every one of you have earned that title, but is that all you wanna be? Living day to day in whatever shelter you can find, scavenging for food, fighting the undead, going to bed with two eyes open, rinse and repeat. 'Cause you can do that. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender. Now, we can get Eugene to Washington and he can make the dead die, and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

"What if we can't get into the city? If they blockaded the roads or something?" Maggie asked.

"DC has infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge, restart. It's worth the risk," Eugene added.

Abraham smiled when he saw the reflective looks on the group's face. He decided to drive home his point by pointing at the church, their former temporary home, which was now a fiery inferno.

"However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us," Abraham stressed, smiling at Judith who had cuddled her head into Carl's shoulder.

"Save the world for that little one. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who don't got nothing left to do except survive."

Rick glanced at Michonne who gave him a small nod. He then looked at Carl and Judith, and then the others who were waiting for his decision. The choice wasn't hard. They had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to live. They had no other hope except the one that Eugene and Abraham had provided for them.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"We're in."


	13. Chapter 13

"This should be it," Abraham said, wiping perspiration from his brow with his filthy hands. He tightened something under the hood with a wrench one more time before knocking on the bus' hood.

Glenn turned the ignition and the bus roared to life, eliciting claps and cheers from the excited onlookers.

"Let's get on the bus and get the hell outta here. There's bound to be a pack of undead pricks curious about why this church is on fire," Abraham ordered.

Rick nodded and motioned to the others.

"Let's go."

They piled into the bus, having already loaded the food and whatever meager belongings hadn't been destroyed in the fire onto their transport. Rick, who was sitting in the bus' front row by the door, glanced at Carl and Judith who were sitting in the seat behind him, Judith busying herself with picking at the peeling seats while Carl stared out the window. Michonne sat across from Rick in the front row behind the driver's seat, and her presence made him feel like he wasn't alone in this decision. He needed some reassurance that getting on this bus headed to Washington wasn't a major mistake, and a small reassuring nod from her made all the difference.

Behind Michonne sat Carol, across from her Daryl, and behind them Glenn and Maggie. Sasha had separated herself in the back row.

Abraham plopped into the driver's seat, and after a brief pause he leapt from the chair, startling everyone.

"Where the hell is Eugene?" he shouted.

Abraham burst from the bus in a panic.

"Eugene!" he yelled, searching the perimeter. He cocked his gun and stomped towards the church. "Eugene?"

A few seconds later, Eugene emerged from behind the back of the bus.

"What the hell were you doing?" Abraham roared. "I told you, no one goes off alone. Especially you."

Eugene seemed startled by the anger directed towards him.

"I noticed a particularly useful deposit of refuge located in the dirt, and felt that acquiring it could be critical to our ability to initiate combustion in a tight spot. Of course we'd also need a cation and anion in order to…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Abraham cut in, obviously not in the mood for Eugene's long winded explanations.

Eugene held up a shiny metallic gum wrapper.

"For fire starting. All we need is a battery with a little juice and it's sparks city."

Abraham grunted in annoyance. "You do _not_ go off by yourself. Period. Like you said, the cure dies with you, and we can't have you dying."

Eugene swallowed and nodded. "Roger that."

Rick stared at the pair as they made their way back onto the bus. Eugene made his way to the back and sat down in the row in front of Sasha somewhat sheepishly.

"All right. _Now_ we can get the hell outta here," Abraham confirmed, and he pulled the bus out of the parking lot, and away from the burning church.

The further away they got from the church, the lighter the mood. Conversations broke out around the bus as people finally had time to talk and socialize.

Carl, Glenn, and Maggie began a heated game of 21 questions. Glenn had thought of an object, and Maggie and Carl's drive to guess what he was thinking via questions was so strong, that they began shouting questions at Glenn faster than he could answer.

Eugene sat looking out the window with an apprehensive look on his face. Carol and Daryl were staring out of their respective windows, and Sasha gazed dazedly at the bus seat in front of her, looking dejected and completely withdrawn.

Hours into the drive, a rattling coming from one side of the bus caught everyone's attention. Seconds later there was a pop, and the bus which was moving at quite a bit of speed, swerved wildly down the road.

"Mother dick!" Abraham yelled, gripping the wheel with both hands.

Everyone held on to their seats as the bus swerved onto the road's shoulder, nearly flipping on the uneven terrain. Everyone was thrown out of their seats before the front tire wedged itself into a ditch.

"Is everyone okay?" Rick asked, immediately standing and looking for his children first, and then Michonne.

Carl had ended up being thrown down in the seat with Judith still in his arms. Judith wailed in fear from the sudden roller coaster ride, but Carl had shielded her from harm, and he nodded at his father to let him know he was alright. Rick approached to check them both anyway, making sure they weren't unknowingly hurt.

Michonne had been thrown into the bus aisle, but she quickly stood, brushing herself off and declaring she was fine besides a superficial scratch on her arm. Rick reached out and held on to her arm as he visually inspected the scratch. He ran his finger over it, while Michonne looked on.

"Rick, its a scratch," she said, but she made no move to remove her arm from his grasp. He ran his thumb over her forearm a few times, and when he was satisfied he met her eyes, gave her a small nod and let her arm go before quickly checking in with the others.

Carl watched the exchange curiously and then smirked as Michonne blinked rapidly at Rick's back.

"You sure you're ok?" Carl asked her, with a laugh in his voice.

Michonne cleared her throat and nodded. "Yea I'm fine. Just a scratch."

She was mortified to confess that the brief contact between herself and Rick had sent tingles down her spine, and hardened her nipples. She hoped they weren't standing out through her shirt.

She had to admit to herself that the man had some kind of power over her, and it was scary because she didn't know if he felt the same way.

Glenn checked out Maggie, while Daryl checked in on Carol and Sasha. Abraham plowed past everyone and yanked Eugene to his feet.

"You okay? Does anything hurt?" he asked.

"I'm… I believe I am uninjured," Eugene replied, rubbing his arms absentmindedly. Just to be sure, Abraham pulled up Eugene's eyelids to check his pupils.

Rick, Daryl, and Glenn climbed off the bus once they saw everyone was safe, looking for the source of the accident. The reason was soon apparent when they observed the shredded rear tire.

"Can't fix that," Daryl commented.

"Maybe we can find another bus tire," Glenn said. "Maggie and I can search around for one."

Although Rick was annoyed about their current situation he was able to laugh at the fact that Glenn and Maggie most likely wanted some rare alone time while they searched for that tire. And most probably a quickie from the way they'd been giggling together in the bus. No one was injured in the crash, so he could humor them a little.

Rick checked his watch. "If you're not back in three hours we'll come looking."

Glenn nodded and re-entered the bus to gather Maggie. Soon after the couple left and disappeared into the woods, Abraham exited and met up with Rick and Daryl, looking down at the ruined tire.

"We're not even a quarter of the damn way there. What the hell could've caused that? I didn't even hit anything."

"We'll deal with it. It's just a temporary setback," Rick said, searching the woods with his eyes. "But we gotta keep a lookout to make sure someone didn't knock our tires out deliberately. Don't let your guard down."

Michonne, Carol and Sasha also exited the bus to see what the commotion was about. When Michonne approached, she caught Rick inspecting her body once again, and she wasn't sure if he was looking for injuries again or he was just looking this time, but she returned the look. She realized that at some point they'd have to talk about what these looks meant. He blinked when he realized she saw him staring, and began to quickly speak.

"Glenn and Maggie are scavenging the area for tires. We should set up camp, just in case they don't find anything."

"Well if there are no tires or working buses around then what do we do?" Carol asked.

Rick sighed and looked up at the sky. "Then we walk. At least until we come across a truck or van."

An hour later, Maggie and Glenn returned with no tires.

"Yea, there's nothing that we can use around here," Glenn stated. I found some cars, but none have tires large enough for a school bus. But we did find this!" Glenn stated, holding up a handful of AA batteries.

"We thought Eugene could use it, to try contacting Washington on the radio," Maggie explained.

"Good idea," Rick said, holding the batteries out towards Eugene who had a surprised look on his face.

"Go on Eugene, we might be out of range but who knows, we may be able to get them," Abraham encouraged.

When Eugene didn't move to take the batteries, Abraham took them himself and snatched the radio from Eugene's motionless hands.

When Abraham opened the battery pack and began putting the batteries in, Eugene suddenly moved, attempting to snatch the radio back from Abraham.

"What the hell are you doing?" Abraham shouted, maneuvering his arm so Eugene couldn't reach. "I'm just putting the batteries in!"

"No, stop. You're gonna break it. I'll do it, just pass it here."

Abraham, annoyed that Eugene was climbing on him for a radio, pushed him off of his arm.

"Stop acting like an idiot. I'll pass you the radio after the batteries are in. I know how to work a goddamn radio!"

Eugene fumbled for the radio a few more times, with Abraham successfully holding him back, when suddenly the radio fell from Abraham's fingers and smashed on the ground, shattering into five pieces.

"Holy fuck," Abraham muttered, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces.

"I told you!" Eugene yelled. "I told you to let me do it. Now look what happened. Now we have no way of contacting my superior. Now we're fucked!"

"I didn't mean to…" Abraham began.

"Well you did," Eugene shot back. "Now because of you we can't even go to Washington anymore, because I cannot contact anyone and tell them we're there!"

"Wait, this sucks but why wouldn't we go to Washington?" Glenn asked. "We could just show up at the door of whatever agency you work for, can't we?"

"N-no, we can't. They'd never let us get that close. They'd shoot us on sight if I can't explain the situation to them."

Rick reached out for the radio pieces, and Abraham passed them to him. Rick had built a radio or two with his grandfather, and he was pretty sure he could put this back together with the right tools.

"There has to be a way," Maggie said. "These are your people. You said you spoke to them before. Don't they know you're coming? Wouldn't they recognize you if we showed up?"

"They'd have soldiers patrolling the area. The soldiers don't know me, they'd be on shoot to kill protocol."

"Why didn't you tell us all of this before?" Michonne asked, crossing her arms. She smelled bullshit.

There was a silence in the group when Rick suddenly cut in.

"When was the last time you used the radio?" Rick asked, his eyes narrowing at Eugene.

"Um… it was…"

"He said he radioed in about a week ago," Abraham answered, "Right before we got caught at Terminus."

Rick held up the inside of the radio. "This is the transistor. It's completely burned out, and it has been for a while. More than a week. This radio hasn't been working for a very long time, and that drop wasn't what broke it."

There was silence as Abraham looked at Eugene and then Rick again.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Abraham asked.

"He's lying," Rick replied, his eyes narrowing. "Aren't you?"

Eugene's shoulders slumped and his head hung on his neck.

"Yes."

There was another beat of silence before Abraham lost his mind. "What part are you lying about? Are you a scientist? Is Washington safe? Was there a point to this whole fucking trip?" he screamed.

"No. To all of it."

"What?" Abraham screamed. "Why? Why would you lie about that?"

"I'm sorry," Eugene admitted. "I needed someone to protect me. I saw you, and I know the only way you'd stick around was if you thought I was important enough to protect. So I thought up a lie and got you to help me. I didn't realize how much I'd have to keep lying to keep it going. I didn't realize others would die to keep it going. Then, when we recruited all of you," Eugene said, gesturing to the group around him. "I felt so bad. You had a kid, a baby, but I had to keep up the lie or I thought you'd kill me. I… I sabotaged the bus. Busted a hole in the tire so it'd go flat. I didn't know it'd almost flip the bus. I didn't know one of you could've gotten hurt…"

Before anyone could stop him, Abraham stood and punched Eugene in the face so hard blood immediately poured from his mouth. He kept going, punching the man again and again and again. No one interfered for the first few punches, but when Rick saw that Eugene was unconscious he reluctantly pulled Abraham off of him.

"Do you know what I went through for that son of a bitch? I've traveled across the goddamn country for him! People _died_ because of him, trying to get him to Washington. And for what? He's not just a goddamn liar, he's a fucking murderer!"

Rick let go of Abraham, but he had nothing to say. No comforting words, because he felt exactly how Abraham did. All the hope they had of there eventually being an end to this nightmare they currently lived in was over. There was no cure. There was no end. This was their life now.

Abraham wandered into the woods as everyone else stared blankly at Eugene. He lay face down on the ground, with blood pooling from his nose and mouth. After a few seconds, Michonne bent down and checked his pulse.

"He's still alive. Come help me get him out of the sun," she ordered. Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl helped drag Eugene under the shade of the trees.

"Well, we have to make camp now," Carol stated. "It's getting dark."

She set off to do just that. As Rick stood, contemplating what their next steps were, Sasha came up behind him.

"Well, now we know for sure there's no hope," she stated, before walking off into the woods.

_**Author's Note: Thank you for reading my stories, and I apologize for the long breaks in between chapters. I'm going to try to make shorter chapters but update more frequently. The next chapter will be coming soon. Thanks for your support and please remember to review!**_


	14. Chapter 14

The group camped out in the bus for two days while they figured out what to do. It was extremely uncomfortable in the bus's tight quarters. No one could lay down completely, so there were plenty of sore necks, backs, and hips. The days were sweltering, and the nights were cold, so they were always uncomfortable in one way or another. And then the smell of moldy bus made the whole experience that much more unpleasant.

The first day and night after Eugene's confession, Abraham had disappeared into the woods, and didn't reemerge until the sun had risen. His clothes were dirty and wet, and Rick guessed he'd slept on the ground somewhere.

Sasha had been off by herself as well. She rarely offered words, but when she did, it was something depressing and hopeless. Rick knew he wasn't the best at caring for his group's mental health. Hell, he wasn't the best at caring for his own mental health. He just knew that they had to decide on something before everyone lost all hope.

Eugene woke up eventually, although Rick couldn't say he cared too much. His nose was bashed in, and he had bruising on his face and chest, but it was nothing he couldn't live through. Rick noticed that after his big confession, Eugene seemed like a different person. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He attempted to help around camp a little more, and tried to be of use instead of sitting there and letting Abraham take care of him.

On the second night, the group sat around a small fire set on the side of the road, cooking the food they'd taken from the food pantry. They were strictly rationing the supplies, and each person was given half a cup of rice, half a cup of vegetables, and a cup of water. Daryl supplemented the meal with 3 squirrels he'd shot, and they welcomed the meat. Judith sat on Rick's lap, happily drinking a bottle of the formula Tyrese had found.

Rick looked down at his daughter, grateful that at this moment she was full and happy, but he couldn't help but think of Tyrese, the man who'd saved her life more than once, but died so violently himself.

Rick's eyes fell on Michonne, who was absentmindedly spooning rice into her mouth as she stared into the fire. He hadn't gotten to speak to her much since the church. There had been so much to do when they decided to secure the disabled bus as their temporary camp. Everyone had their hands full scavenging from the nearby area, starting and maintaining a fire, looking for water sources, and keeping the area safe from walkers. He felt guilty thinking it, but he missed the close bond he, Michonne, and Carl had formed when they were on the road by themselves.

Carl was sitting next to her with his legs crossed. He'd wolfed down his food in minutes and was now absentmindedly poking the fire with a stick he'd found.

The glow from the fire, and the soft crackling of it was almost hypnotizing, pulling them all into a reflective state. Rick noticed that almost everyone was staring into the fire, except for Sasha, who once again had isolated herself away from the group. She was on watch, perched on the bus's hood with her rifle in her lap and a cold stare on her face, her distance from the fire shrouding her body in shadow.

Suddenly there was a loud pop from the fire, and everyone flinched or jumped, their private reflection disturbed.

Rick thought this was an opportune time to bring up the obvious.

"We can't stay here forever," he began softly, causing everyone to look up at him. "We have to find a place. A permanent place. Safe, like what we had before. And the question is, where should we go? And to be honest, I can't be the only one making the choice for everyone. This is a decision we all have to agree on."

Rick stood with Judith still in his arms, and looked around at the group until his eyes fell on Michonne.

"Before I met up with you all again, when I thought I'd lost you, Michonne had the idea of heading East to the coast. She figured that we'd be safer if we could find an island, far from the walkers. Far from the people trying to kill us. I thought it was a brilliant idea," he admitted, and Michonne's eyes widened at his compliment. "What do y'all think?"

"If we move to an island, we might run out of supplies fast," Daryl grumbled. "We'll deplete our resources and not have any place to scavenge for more. Plus… does anyone know how to drive a damn boat?"

"I think an island is a good idea," Glenn commented. "We could get some seeds, grow our own food, and eventually fortify the shore enough that no one could approach us if the island is small. I mean, I don't know how to work a boat but I'm sure I could learn," he added.

"What about an office building?" Carol asked. "We can make sure there's one entrance and exit. Make walker traps on the steps, and guard the one entrance. We could even use the roof to grow crops. Once it's secured we could hold up in there at least for the winter."

The others shot out ideas, some feasible, others farfetched and shot down immediately. Michonne noticed that Eugene was noticeably silent as the others spoke, probably knowing that it was in his best interest to stay out the group's plans for the foreseeable future. But as Michonne watched him and the rest of the group, crowded around the small fire, she began to speak. Even before she knew what she was saying.

"What if Eugene is right?" she asked, slightly startled that she'd said that out loud. There was a brief silence as everyone looked up at her.

"He was lying," Glenn reminded them, and Eugene hung his head guiltily.

"About the cure. But he said Washington had the infrastructure to survive this type of thing, and he's not wrong. There has to be a bunker somewhere, a place where people are safe. A place where we could be safe. All we have to do is find it."

"It makes no sense going into a city just on a hunch. If Atlanta was overrun, why wouldn't Washington be?" Glenn asked.

"It's the capital," Michonne said. "Washington is full of military personnel, secret service, FBI, CIA, lawmakers… don't tell me walkers were able to take them ALL down. There has to be something left if we just take the chance."

Her eyes scanned over her travel weary companions. She could see they'd given up, they'd resigned themselves to this life on the road. Waking up in misery, and going to bed quite the same. She could see the defeat in them, because she'd already gone through the same thing. And seeing how the light had been extinguished in Sasha from the loss of her brother and boyfriend was uncomfortably familiar to Michonne. As she continued to speak, her lip began to tremble as her emotions overcame her.

"We have to hold on to hope. Instead of just being out here. Instead of just making it, because right now, this is what making it looks like," she said, pointing to the disabled bus and their meager campfire.

She then turned to Rick, who had been raptly listening to and watching her impromptu speech. Her brown eyes bore into his as she spoke.

"Don't you want one more day with a chance?"

As she spoke, Michonne's voice shook with conviction. Rick could tell she had taken time to think about her theory. She knew it was a longshot, but with both Abraham and Sasha hopeless about the future, and traveling with a small child, they had to do something. They had to go somewhere.

As Rick watched her he could see how much this meant to her, and he knew that whatever she wanted, he would do for her. As long as the group agreed.

He nodded distractedly, and looked down at the ground as he reflected on her words. The rest of the group was silent as well. Michonne scanned their faces one more time before turning her gaze back to the crackling fire.

"I've always wanted to go to Washington," Carl cut in. Michonne looked up and smiled at him, and he returned her grin.

"We should go," Rick agreed with a nod. "It's 100 miles away, but we should go to Washington."

Carol's brow furrowed and she looked at Rick as if she'd never seen him before. She'd noticed that this woman, Michonne, had become part of the Grimes family unit, but she didn't realize how much. Michonne obviously had enough power over Rick to make him decide to drag his two children across the country despite knowing that there was no cure to the walker virus, and probably no hope of finding a "safe community." But he was willing to do this anyway. For her.

The others seemed to notice this as well, as Glenn's eyebrows raised slightly, and his eyes quickly met Maggie's. Abraham, who had been sitting off to himself raised his head to look at Rick, and then Michonne.

Daryl seemed to be the only one unphased by Rick siding with Michonne.

"Ain't got nowhere else to go," he said with a shrug.

"What if there's nothing there?" Maggie asked, unsure about taking this kind of risk.

"What do we have to lose? It's not like there's anything here," Carl said. "Michonne is right. If there's a place that we could be safe, it's in Washington."

When Maggie looked skeptical, Carl said, "if Hershel were here, he'd want us to try."

The mention of her father made Maggie reevaluate. His death was still fresh in her mind, and it was like a kick in the gut. But she believed Carl was right. Hershel had wanted her to live the best life she could in this world, and she may just find a better life in Washington. Her father was a man of faith, and he'd want her to believe the impossible was possible. Although she didn't always believe his sentiments, something told her that this was right. She made eye contact with Glenn, and he immediately knew they'd be going to Washington.

"We'll go," Maggie said to Michonne with a nod. "My daddy would've wanted us to have another day with a chance."

Michonne smiled, nodding back at both Maggie and Glenn.

The only people left to comment were Abraham and Eugene, Gabriel, Sasha, and Carol.

"Carol?" Rick asked, wanting to hear from everyone in the group.

"There's no proof that Washington is any better than it is here. But I trust _you_ Rick. So if that's what you think we should do, I'm with you."

Rick nodded slowly, and turned to the others who hadn't spoken. Gabriel shrugged. "I'll go wherever the group is going. I trust the Lord will care for us along the way."

Eugene just nodded, reluctant to have the nerve to open his mouth in this situation.

"Whatever," Sasha mumbled from atop the bus' hood. And Abraham picked up a rock and threw it into the forest, not giving an answer at all. Rick took that as a yes for Washington.

He turned to Michonne with a twinkle in his eye, and her lip turned up in a small smile of relief.

***can08writer***

"What's going on between you and Michonne?" Carol demanded, coming up behind Rick as he set out to do his final patrol of their campsite before he settled in to sleep.

"What?" Rick asked, nearly choking. Her unexpected question made him swallow wrong, and he let out a few coughs.

"What are the two of you?" Carol asked, her calculating blue eyes studying Rick's uncomfortable face. At that moment he was glad that it was dark, and that he'd been tanned from his time on the road, because his face flooded with blood.

"What are you talking about?" Rick scoffed, continuing his journey around their campsite and the surrounding road.

"You heard me," Carol insisted, her voice soft but demanding. "I need to know what you two are, and why she has so much pull over you. I'm not the only one who's noticed the looks between you two."

"What looks?" Rick asked, somewhat being deceptive, but also curious to see if Carol's perceptiveness had picked up on something he himself had missed.

Carol grunted in amusement. "I don't think I have time to name them all, but let's start with what happened tonight. She suggested Washington and you jumped on it."

"Actually, Carl was the first to agree," Rick corrected, dodging a low hanging branch. "But so what?"

"If she'd wanted us to go to California would you have gone?"

Rick's eyes narrowed. "Carol what exactly are you saying?"

"I want to make sure that the man I respect and have come to know as a brother, is making decisions with a clear head, and not under the influence of love, or infatuation, or whatever it is that's happening between you and Michonne."

Rick opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it, as he knew Carol was right. Something was happening between them, he just didn't know what.

Carol saw the internal monologue he was having and smiled.

"Look, she is definitely an asset to the family, and I know she helped you and Carl when you were on your own. I haven't really spoken to her much, but I see how close she is to Carl, and you. I just want to make sure you're making this move because you think it's best for the group, and not just because Michonne suggested it."

"Well, I think it's best for the group," Rick said without hesitation. "If we have a chance anywhere, it's there. It can't just be us. I have Judith and Carl to think of, and their future. They need a community. They need _people_. I want them to grow up, have friends, get married one day. If it's just us, that will never happen for them. I'm doing this for _them_. And for us."

Carol looked away for a moment, and then gradually her shoulders relaxed.

"And you think we can make it that far? With no guarantee of finding anything?"

"If I didn't think we could make it, I wouldn't bring my children there. You know that Carol. I'd die to protect them."

That sentence seemed enough for Carol. She nodded slightly, and then her voice took on a teasing tone.

"But really Rick, whatever is going on between you and Michonne, I think you need it. And you deserve it. Just keep your head clear. We need you. It's a long way to Washington."

When Rick offered no response, Carol turned and headed back towards the bus.

Rick continued on his path around their camp's perimeter, using the opportunity to think about what Carol said.

He knew he had strong feelings for Michonne. She had been by his side during one of the worst experiences of his life. She took care of Carl and helped the boy heal emotionally when he was unconscious. His decision to continue to Washington was because she had a sound point, not because he had feelings for her. Wasn't it?

***can08writer***

They hit the road early the next morning, leaving behind the disabled bus, and the assurance that there were people waiting for them in Washington who could turn the world back to the way it had been.

Although their future was precarious, Michonne felt positive about her speech to continue on to Washington. She had a good feeling about going there, and she'd learned long ago to trust her instincts. She knew Rick enough to know that he wouldn't agree to go if he didn't think they could make it, and with the group of people they were traveling with, she was sure they'd succeed as well, but the hot, dry weather, and unforgiving terrain was chipping away at their confidence.

They walked down long roads, trying their best to stay in the shade of the trees, but sometimes there was no shade, and the sun beat down on them relentlessly. They'd go hours without a word between them, not having the motivation, or moisture in their mouths to expend the energy for conversation.

Three days into their walk, they had almost run through their water supply, and their supplies from the food pantry were slim pickings. Judith was becoming cranky from the heat and the constant walking, and her crying had caught the attention of a small herd of walkers that was trailing behind them.

"We need to take a rest, so we have to get the walkers off our trail. But we do this smart," Rick explained to the group. "We can't waste any more energy than we have to." Rick pointed further up the road. There was a wide open field that flanked the asphalt, and then a horse barn that belonged to a farmhouse on the opposite side of the field.

"We can lure them into the barn, trap them inside, and set it on fire," Rick suggested.

The group stared at him blankly.

"Carl and I did it before on Hershel's farm. It worked. That barn looks just like his, I bet the inside is similar too. We just need one person to lure them in and set the fire. Everyone else stays outside and holds the doors closed until the fire takes.

"And how does the 'bait' get back out?" Maggie asked skeptically.

"Out the rafters once the barn's on fire. Look, this is my plan, I'll be the bait. I just need the rest of you to keep out of sight until it's time to close the door."

"What?" Michonne asked, her eyes snapping up to meet Rick's.

"No. You've got kids Rick. I'll do it," Glenn volunteered.

"What?" Maggie demanded. "You're not gonna be walker bait again."

"I'll do it," Sasha volunteered quickly. The group turned to look at her, and she gave off more enthusiasm than they'd seen from her in days.

"I'll lure them into the barn, set it on fire, and climb the rafters to get out. I don't have kids or a partner, if I don't make it, no fuss."

Rick's eyes narrowed at her. "No. I'm doin' it. End of discussion."

Sasha rolled her eyes in frustration and stalked off a distance away from the group. The growls of the walkers were getting louder as they made their way closer.

Rick held a hand out to Daryl who had a lighter. Daryl hesitated for a moment before handing the lighter over.

"Y'all can hide in the bushes right next to the barn, not too close so the walkers dont spot you. Soon as I'm in position I'll yell to you to close the door. Go on, hide so they'll only follow me right now."

The group stood by with uncertainty. Abraham was the first to make his way into the woods and the others trickled after him.

"Be safe dad," Carl said with a brave nod of his head.

"I will," Rick said, clasping the back of his son's neck.

Michonne stood there, the last one in the group to move.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" she whispered.

"I do. I'll be alright."

She nodded, looking at the ground, and then reached out to grasp his hand in hers.

"Come back in one piece."

He smiled and gently ran his thumb across her fingers, squeezing her hand tightly.

"I intend to."

She let go of his hand, gave him a nod, and headed off into the trees with the others.

The walkers were close enough to see where Michonne was headed, and a few changed direction to follow her into the woods.

"Hey!" Rick yelled, waving his hands wildly. "Hey! Get over here. This way, come on."

He walked backwards, still waving his arms to get the walkers' attention. They turned back to him, and kept up their steady pace. He continued down the road, getting closer and closer to the barn. He prayed the inside of this barn had the same layout as Hershel's, but there was no telling until he was actually inside, and if it didn't, well he was screwed.

As Rick walked closer and closer to the barn, the others hid in the woods, watching intensely. They were all tired, hot, thirsty, and hungry. Fighting off a group of walkers this size would've been nothing to them before, but at their current level of exhaustion, hand to hand combat required more energy than they were willing to spend. Tired bodies equaled mistakes, and a mistake out here meant death.

Sasha, who was standing next to Michonne, huffed impatiently at the walkers who were moving too slowly for her likes.

"We can take 'em," she whispered.

She glanced over and saw the way Sasha's muscles twitched in anticipation. Her face was calm, but her eyes held a quiet rage that Michonne was all too familiar with.

"Rick is right. We barely have anything left. No use in using it all now. This is the quickest way to get rid of all of them."

"_I_ can take 'em," Sasha said, narrowing her eyes at the walkers.

Michonne studied the woman, and all she saw was herself a month ago. Angry, hurting, resorting to rage to silence the pain of being alone.

"_No one_ is going to take them," Michonne said pointedly. "Rick is going to do what he said, and then we're going to keep walking."

Sasha barely seemed to be listening to her, but Michonne was distracted when Rick finally reached the doors of the barn and began pulling. The first of the double doors he pulled was locked, and Michonne's heart sunk. He tried the second and thankfully it creaked open. He dashed inside and within a few seconds the first of the walkers had followed him in.

There was silence as they held their breaths, none of them knowing what Rick saw inside the barn. They couldn't call to him or they'd attract walkers away from the barn.

A full minute passed with the walkers still continuing into the barn and no flames. before Sasha stood, pulled a knife, and walked towards the building.

"Sasha!" Michonne hissed, but she continued forwards.

"Rick needs our help. He could be trapped in there for all we know."

Maggie reached out to grab her, but she deftly dodged the woman's fingers, and continued behind the herd.

One of the walkers noticed her and spun around, followed by another.

"Well _that_ plan's dicked," Abraham muttered, before following behind her. Sasha began swinging at walkers wildly, getting head shot after headshot with her knife. The walkers that had been going into the barn got distracted by the commotion and started coming for Sasha. The others followed quickly behind, acting as backup as Sasha was rapidly surrounded.

Sasha's controlled stabbing slowly morphed into wild swinging as she became nearly swamped. Walkers were pulling at her clothes and reaching for her hair, as she moved in circles trying to kill them.

"Someone close the door to the barn so the walkers in there can't get out!" Glenn yelled.

Maggie, Carl with Judith on his back, Eugene, and Father Gabriel ran to the barn doors, struggling to safely get past the walkers that were coming back out to join the frenzy around Sasha.

"Close the doors!" Rick yelled from inside, and they saw the reflection of a bright light, presumably fire, that had suddenly ignited inside the barn.

Michonne, Abraham, Glenn, and Carol were trying to get to Sasha, who was screaming like a wild woman as her knife flew through the air. Michonne came up behind a walker that was reaching for the back of Sasha's shirt, and pulled it away from the distracted woman.

Sasha swung at a rotten walker and the knife went through the walkers face and continued into Abraham's shoulder, making him let out a yell.

"What the fuck?" he growled angrily.

Sasha didn't even hear or notice him. She was out of control. She pushed another walker that fell into Glenn, crashing on top of him. Luckily Carol was right next to him and plunged her knife into the back of its head before it could bite him.

Despite Sasha's reckless behavior, together they finished off the walkers that were outside, while the smell of fire inside the barn became more and more noticeable. As soon as she could, Michonne turned and began searching for Rick. She was relieved to see him climbing down a ladder that lead from the barn's loft. As soon as he was safely out of the barn she turned to Sasha who was straddling a walker and stabbing it repeatedly while everyone else tried to catch their breaths.

Seeing that she needed to stop right now before someone got hurt, Michonne reached for her shoulder. Sasha spun around without thinking, and pointed her knife at Michonne. Within seconds Michonne kicked the knife out of Sasha's hand, sending it skidding in the grass. The two of them glared at each other, their chests heaving to get oxygen from their exertion.

"I know you're going through it right now," Michonne said softly but firmly, "but if you point that at me again you'd better be ready to use it."

Sasha continued to glare at her, saying nothing, but rage flashed across her features. A few seconds later she pushed herself from the dirt and squared up to Michonne, standing a few inches away. They locked eyes as the others looked on nervously.

Sasha was the first to break eye contact as she reached down, picked up her knife, and stalked away.

***can08writer***

"She's been crying for three hours straight," Carl said, placing a blanket on the cold, hard, ground of the garage they'd sheltered in temporarily in order to change Judith. As he removed her dirty diaper, he studied her little face. "And look how dry her lips are."

"She's thirsty," Michonne said, agreeing with Carl's observation, but when she saw the inside of Judith's diaper she paused.

"Wait, you see how everything is red? She has diaper rash. No wonder she's been crying."

Carl cringed at the red rash that covered his sister's skin. "What happened?"

"You've been reusing her rags. There's no way to get them clean enough without water and bleach, and they're wrapped too tightly. If her skin doesn't get some air, bacteria builds up in there."

Rick, noticing the conversation and their concerned looks came over and knelt down next to them. As soon as he saw Judith's skin, his heart clenched.

"Jesus," he muttered, rubbing the top of his daughter's hair to soothe her cries.

"I think she's gonna have to go without a diaper for a few days. Covering up that rash is going to make it worse."

Rick nodded, lifting Judith into his arms and rocking her against his chest.

"It's okay sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I know it's uncomfortable," he muttered into her hair.

Carol came over with her bag, and squatted next to them. "I have some aloe, I found it growing on the windowsill of one of the homes we searched. I cut off a few leaves just in case. I know they're good for burns, but they can probably make that rash feel better too."

She handed an aloe leaf to Rick.

"Thanks, that was a great idea Carol," he agreed. She nodded and walked away.

He took his knife and cut the leaf in two, revealing its thick and slimy interior. Carefully he scraped the sticky sap out and rubbed a generous amount of it on Judith's rash.

It was then that Michonne noticed the large red burns on the palms of Rick's hands.

"Was that from the fire?" she asked in disbelief.

Rick looked down at where Michonne was staring.

"Oh, it's nothin'. The ladder I was on got kind of hot when I was makin' my way down."

Michonne reached for Rick's hand and flipped it over, revealing a long blister that spanned his palm.

"It's not that bad," he said, taking his hand back.

"I'm putting aloe on that too," Michonne declared, taking the other half of aloe leaf that wasn't used on Judith, and scooping out the sap.

"I don't need it…"

"Do you wanna get an infection? If not, we need this to heal as quickly as possible and the aloe can help."

Before Rick could say anything more, Michonne snatched his hand back and began to massage the aloe into it, as Carl took Judith from Rick so that

Michonne could maneuver more easily.

She rubbed the sap into his hand, her fingers rubbing against and caressing his own. The feel of her touch was so strangely relaxing that he relaxed and let her continue. Carl watched as Michonne rubbed the aloe all over Rick's hand.

"How does it feel?" Carl asked once Rick's palm was coated in the sticky substance.

Rick lifted his hand to look at it. He then made eye contact with Michonne.

"Much better."

"I bet," Carl said with a smirk and roll of his eyes. When both Rick and Michonne turned to look at him, he lifted Judith, stood up, and mumbled under his breath as he walked away, "just kiss already."

If she could blush she would've, and cleared her throat before turning to see Rick's reaction. He _could_ blush and he did, his neck turning a shade of red she'd never seen before. He glared after his son.

Before anything could be said, Glenn and Maggie entered the garage with large smiles on their faces.

"Hey guys, we found the perfect place," Glenn announced.

Ten minutes later they arrived at Silly Willy's Discount Furniture Store. The place had its gates down and the locks were intact, so the likelihood of useful odds and ends inside were high. Rick removed his machete and hit the lock four times until it finally broke. They slid the gates up to reveal the store in pristine shape. It looked like no one had entered in at least a year.

The interior was full of living room, dining room, and bedroom sets, remnants of a world when people stayed in one place long enough to design and decorate their homes.

Immediately after clearing the small storefront, Abraham flopped down on a couch and put his feet up on the cushions.

"This is my abode for the night. Feels like the cushions are cradling my ass cheeks."

"This is perfect," Maggie said, before flopping onto a queen sized bed. She rolled around until she found a comfortable position. "Oh my God, I haven't laid on anything so soft since the farm."

As if on cue, everyone else began trying out the furniture. Lounging on the couches, and rolling around in the beds. Carl was thrilled to jump on a bed, and Rick smiled as he watched his son do something so unbelievably childlike. Michonne called Carl to stop him, and he did immediately, standing on the bed with a guilty look on his face.

"At least take your shoes off!" she called, before flipping off her own boots and climbing on herself.

Carl laughed in surprise, sat down for a moment to remove his shoes, and then continued jumping on the bed next to Michonne.

After they ate their share of rations, and worked out the watch schedule, everyone began naturally sectioning off for the night.

Carl had gone to bed early, and Rick didn't blame him. They were all exhausted. Rick and Michonne had stayed up for a while longer, talking to the others and looking at Abraham's map, reviewing the route they'd be taking in the morning. Once they were done, they went looking for Carl, unsure of which of the many beds he'd decided to sleep on.

Although the furniture store was one large room, the layout and strategic room dividers allowed a sense of privacy, as if they were actually in their own little rooms. They found Carl curled up on a twin bed in a deep sleep, with Judith sleeping in a crib nearby.

"I really admire his ability to sleep any and everywhere," Rick said with a small laugh.

"Well this bed is a definite improvement from what he's been sleeping on for the past few weeks," Michonne said. She looked down into Judith's crib fondly, and moved some of her blond hair from her face.

"And this little one, she deserves something soft to sleep on for once. This place was a good find."

Rick nodded and awkwardly shifted on his feet. He knew there were some things he'd have to eventually discuss with Michonne. He'd easily avoided it. There was always a problem to solve, or something to distract them from thinking about their relationship, but he knew eventually they'd have to talk about what they were to each other.

"… so I'm gonna go to bed," Michonne finished, and it took a few beats for Rick to realize she'd been speaking.

"I… um… me too," Rick said, motioning to the bed near Carl's.

"So I'll see you in the morning," Michonne said, turning her back on Rick. He was confused for a second when he realized she was leaving.

"Wait, you're not staying here?" he asked.

Michonne turned back around, her eyes scanning the area.

"There's only one bed here. I was going to sleep over there."

Rick sat down on the bed, careful not to allow it to squeak and wake Judith.

"I just thought… maybe you wouldn't mind sleeping here, with us." He gestured to bed, on the other side of the mattress. "It'll be like old times, when it was just the three of us."

Michonne smiled, and her head tilted in amusement at the prospect of Rick asking her to share a bed with him.

"Okay," she agreed softly.

They both removed their shoes in silence, the sounds of Abraham's snores echoing in the distance. Rick was the first to lay down, and he settled on his back, his arms resting behind his head. Michonne was next and she lay on her side, with her back to Rick. It was too dark to see her, but he could feel her proximity and the heat from her body. He wanted so desperately to snuggle up to her and hold her close, but he'd have to settle for the closeness that she'd given.

When she was finished settling, the room got quiet once again.

"Michonne?" Rick called as softly as he could.

"Yea?" she asked.

"Thank you, for everything you've done."

Michonne stretched her neck to see behind herself, but she couldn't make out Rick's face in the dark. When she realized she couldn't see him, she turned back over on her side.

"You're welcome Rick, but you don't have to thank me. We couldn't have made it without each other."

She realized how true her statement was. How many times had he saved her since they'd met? And vice versa? They owed each other their lives, and she was so grateful she'd found this little family, and even this larger one as well.

"Something tells me you could've made it if we hadn't stumbled upon you," he laughed. "Well, maybe the garter snake would've done you in."

"Shut up," she snickered, trying to keep her laughs low so she didn't wake the kids. She turned over so that she was now facing Rick, but she couldn't see him in the darkness.

"But I think if we hadn't stumbled upon you, you could've avoided 50% of the drama we went through too," he said, his voice a little more serious.

She thought for a moment, and then placed her hand on where she approximated his shoulder would be.

"I don't regret anything. I'm glad I met you and Carl. The way I was living before, it wasn't a life. I wasn't happy. But now, no matter what happens to us, I'm content. I've found a purpose. And I love…" her voice paused for a moment. "I love the drama. It lets me know I'm alive."

Rick took a deep breath and squeezed her hand that was resting on his shoulder.

"I love the drama too," he said softly.

For a few seconds there was an awkward silence, where the other didn't know if or what they should say. Thankfully, Rick broke the silence.

"Goodnight Michonne."

Michonne let out a sigh, of what she didn't know. Regret? Relief? Frustration? But she pushed her confusion away and allowed her mind to relax. She was too tired to analyze how she felt.

"Sleep tight Rick."


	15. Chapter 15

Rick awoke with a start. He did that often, it was like his body knew he was going into a deep sleep and it fought hard to prevent him from letting his guard down. The softness underneath him startled him a bit. He hadn't slept on anything this soft since his own bed, before he ended up in the hospital in a coma. His eyes searched his dark, quiet surroundings frantically until he realized Michonne was asleep on the bed next to him.

Actually, she was _directly_ next to him. And his arm was across her waist. She hadn't been this close to him when he'd fallen asleep. Either he had moved closer or she had, but her hand was now curled around his arm that was loosely resting on her.

Her face was just inches from his own, and he used the dim light filtering through the store to study her long eyelashes, her wide adorable nose, and the way her lips were slightly parted. He could feel her breath against his face, and smell her scent. She smelled so good, not due to perfume, or clean clothes, or recent bathing. God knew none of them had bathed in weeks or more. But her natural smell was intoxicating, and warm, and full of womanhood.

He realized that the polite thing to do was to move his arm away from her, to put some distance between her body and his. The polite thing to do would be to turn his back to her, or even get out of the bed. But at that moment, with her lying so innocently next to him, he never wanted to let her go. And so he watched her, counting her breaths, watching her chest rise and fall, and he could only think of how much he wanted to press his lips against her forehead, and cheeks, and nose, and then her own lips. The pull he felt towards her was overwhelming.

Involuntarily, his arm tightened on her waist. His fingers that were splayed across the hem of her shirt, gently slipped under it until he was almost imperceptibly stroking the smooth, firm skin on her back. His eyes slid down to his hands which were getting bolder and slowly rubbing circles across her skin. It felt so comfortable lying here like this with her.

Suddenly he realized her breathing had changed. He glanced up to check on her and realized that she was staring back at him, the whites of her eyes reflecting in the dark room.

His fingers froze mid stroke and he couldn't move out of sheer embarrassment, but she didn't move either. She simply watched him, her eyes flitting all over his face, before she locked eyes with him, their hands comfortably touching each other's skin. And he realized that she was as comfortable with their sleeping arrangement as he was.

He felt her hand squeeze his arm reassuringly, and then she began to stroke his forearm in the same manner he'd been stroking her back. Michonne let out a small smile as Rick visibly relaxed.

He pulled her slightly closer to him, and she snuggled her forehead against his chest, getting comfortable. His fingers continued stroking her back underneath her shirt, and he pressed a kiss into her hair before he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, feeling more confident with her in his arms than he'd felt since the fall of the prison.

Her acceptance of him, her attraction to him, it was all he needed.

Wordlessly, they lay caressing each other until the sound of their heartbeats lulled them back to sleep.

***can08writer***

Carl woke up over the span of a few minutes. The first thing he noticed was how comfortable he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this comfortable upon waking up from sleep. Usually his neck was in pain, or the hard ground was pressing into his hip bone as he lay on his side. On the bus he'd had to sleep in a sitting position with a dozen other people, and Abraham's snores, Judith's cries, or the sound of Daryl sharpening his arrows which he did when he couldn't sleep, woke Carl up at least every half hour.

As his brain became more and more aware, he remembered the furniture store that they'd found the day before, and putting Judith to bed before he crawled onto the twin mattress he slept on now. Not opening his eyes, he wiggled his toes, loving the feeling of sleeping without his boots on. It was a luxury to feel safe enough to sleep with no shoes, something he hadn't been able to do since they'd fled the prison.

He noticed someone had placed a blanket on top of him at some point in the night, most likely his father, and he snuggled into the warmness of the dusty, yet clean smelling blanket. Sleeping under a covering that didn't smell like dirt, mildew, or mold was another luxury in this world.

He'd had the most refreshing sleep he'd ever had since the world went crazy, and he thought he'd have to thank Maggie and Glenn for finding this place. He knew they couldn't stay long, there was nothing in terms of food and water in this area, but the night of restfulness was well worth it.

He finally opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear them. It was still pretty dark in the furniture store. The gates had been left down over the front windows, keeping them safe from walkers and people, and the only light that filtered through the massive store came from the front entrance, where someone was on watch.

He turned to immediately check on Judith who was in a crib near his bed. She was still asleep, her thumb placed in her mouth. This was the first time Carl could remember that she hadn't woken up fussy during the night, and he realized his sister was enjoying her comfortable crib as well.

He turned his head and was shocked to see his father laying on a bed nearby with Michonne in his arms. Their legs were intertwined, and though Michonne's hands and head were pressed against Rick's chest, Rick's hands were comfortably nestled underneath the back of Michonne's shirt, his pinky finger even dipping dangerously into the back of her jeans.

Carl's mouth dropped open and he let out an exhale that was between a chuckle and a gasp.

_What happened last night?_

He had only ever seen his dad sleep that way with his mom, when he shared a tent with them when they'd fled Atlanta. And he hadn't seen it since. Even in the prison his parents had slept in different cells, and didn't touch or talk to each other if they could help it. Seeing his father hold Michonne like that gave Carl an indescribable feeling. Like maybe he'd be able to have a happy family again, with parents that actually liked and loved each other. One without the tension and drama that had overshadowed the last year of his parent's marriage.

Although he felt bittersweet that his mother wasn't able to be the one in his father's arms, he was happy for his dad. And Michonne. They both needed something good.

As if sensing the movement in the room, Rick pulled Michonne closer to himself in his sleep, and his hand slid down her back and into the back of her pants even lower. Michonne let out a soft sigh, and buried her face deeper into his chest.

Carl realized he'd been staring at them for at least a minute, and how creepy that was. Finally closing his gaping mouth, and shaking his head in amusement, he grabbed his boots from next to his bed, and quietly tiptoed towards the entrance to the store. He was wide awake, and since there was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep without staring at his father and his best friend in bed, he'd just relieve whoever was on watch.

***can08writer***

"So did I miss something that happened between you and Michonne last night?" Carl asked his father when an hour later the man had come to give him his breakfast rations, a handful of dried Frosted Flakes cereal.

Rick scrunched up his face as he popped a flake of cereal into his own mouth. "What do you mean?"

"I mean did anything interesting happen? I went to sleep and the two of you were pouring over maps. I wake up and you're cuddled up in bed. So I was wondering…"

"Carl…" Rick growled, uncomfortable with this conversation on so many levels.

"I mean, I don't wanna _know_ know what happened. I just wanted to know if you guys are together yet. I want you to tell me if you are."

"Together?" Rick asked, now not even looking at his son.

"Yea Dad, together. Like, boyfriend girlfriend together."

"Why do you think that? Why would we be…"

"Dad come on. Michonne is the coolest adult I've ever met. And you obviously like her, so just be together. I don't get why it's so hard. You like her, right?"

"I… I mean… yea she's a nice woman. But things aren't that simple. It doesn't just work like that."

"Why not? I'm just tired of you guys giving each other looks all the time. You _like_ each other. I know it. Do you want me to talk to Michonne and ask her for you?"

"_No_ Carl," Rick said, a little louder than he'd intended. "No, this isn't something you should be worrying about. We're adults and we'll handle it on our own time. I'm glad you like Michonne, I do too. But there are other more important things to worry about right now. And if we decide to be… 'together', you'll be the first to know. I promise."

Carl huffed, but then nodded in resignation.

Rick smirked a little at his son's interest in his love life, but at least Carl liked Michonne. He would never have considered anything with her if Carl didn't feel that way.

When they'd awoken in each other's arms that morning, he thought there might be a little awkwardness between them. He thought possibly that Michonne might feel like she'd made a mistake, and he braced himself for that rejection. But he was relieved and grateful when she'd pressed a kiss to his hand, and he'd embraced her in a hug, before they got ready to face another day of traveling.

And knowing that she didn't regret their intimacy gave him all the energy and determination he needed to keep going towards Washington.

"Go finish your breakfast and then pack up. We're leaving in 30," Rick instructed his son. Carl popped another flake into his mouth and stood stretching his muscles.

"Good morning," a silky voice declared from behind them, startling them both. Sometimes Michonne was so quiet on her feet it was scary.

"It _is_ a good morning, isn't it?" Carl asked, giving Michonne a goofy grin.

Michonne tilted her head at Carl, and then looked at Rick questioningly, but Rick simply shook his head at his son.

Michonne cleared her throat and ignored Carl's looks. "Have either of you seen Sasha?"

Carl's forehead furrowed. "Yea, she was on watch before I relieved her this morning. She went into the woods, I thought she had to pee or something, but come to think of it it's been a while and she hasn't come back."

"She's been going into the woods a lot lately," Rick said. "I meant to talk to her about it. After what she did yesterday, I think she's becoming a liability to the group."

"Yea," Michonne said, unable to shake an uncomfortable feeling that settled in her stomach. "I'll go find her. The others are just about ready to leave, and I don't want everyone waiting for her when we are ready."

"I'll go with," Rick said, standing up from his position.

"No, it's okay. I have to go relieve myself anyway. I'll find her, bring her back."

Rick eyed Michonne and tilted his head. "She pulled a knife on you yesterday," he reminded her.

"You think I can't take her?" Michonne asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh I know you can," Rick responded with a proud nod of his head. "It's just, I don't want you going after her alone. She's not in the right mindset right now."

"I've got this Rick," Michonne said, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll be back in a few."

Not waiting for a reply, she turned and headed across the street and into the woods, her hand on her katana.

***can08writer***

Michonne walked through the woods, listening for any sign of Sasha. The foliage was mostly dried and crunchy due to the lack of rain, making it easy to determine she was nowhere nearby. But luckily the crunchy ground made it easy to determine there were no walkers nearby either.

Michonne kept walking, keeping track of her direction so she didn't get lost.

"Sasha?" she called.

The silence of the forest was unnerving. Usually birds would be chirping, or flies would be buzzing past. Nowadays, wildlife was the only soundtrack to their lives. But today the woods were silent, and Michonne could feel the hair raise on her arms. She gripped her katana more tightly as it rested on her back.

"Sasha?"

There was no reply, but she noticed a faint creaking coming from further up, as if an old tree was swaying from side to side in the breeze. Except there was no significant breeze, and all the other trees were still.

Cautiously, Michonne continued in the direction of the creaking.

"Sasha?" she whispered again.

The creaking continued, and as she approached she saw something unsettling on the ground.

Sasha's gun, knives, and boots were neatly piled underneath a tree. Michonne's stomach dropped and she pulled her katana.

"Sasha?" she called, louder now, but the only sound was the faint creaking.

Michonne continued forward until she spotted the tree that was creaking, and her shock almost made her drop her weapon.

Sasha was hanging from the tree with a rope tied around her neck, her feet just missing the ground, and her body swaying back and forth.

_**Author's note:**_ _A great big thank you to all of you who review (and a special thank you to those who leave long, in depth reviews.) I appreciate it so much, especially since I think the Richonne fandom is greatly declining since the disappearance of Rick and the leaving of Michonne on the show. If you want to #keepRichonnealive, it's important to do your part by supporting authors with reviews and reblogging of their content. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to write what happens next!_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's note:**_ _Thank you for the outpouring of reviews for the previous chapter. I got the most reviews I've ever received on a chapter of this fic, and it really brought back my passion to write, so I immediately started on this chapter rather than rest for a few days/weeks like I usually do. If you ever wonder if your reviews matter, please know that they absolutely do. And so, here is chapter 16 for your reading pleasure._

"Sasha!" Michonne yelled, running to her and grabbing her by the knees, lifting her legs to relieve the pressure on her neck.

"Rick!" she screamed, hoping someone could hear her.

"Oh God, oh God," she murmured to herself, glancing around for someone or something that could help her. She screamed for Rick a few more times before she realized no one could hear her, and she couldn't hold Sasha like this much longer.

She realized she had to let go of Sasha again in order to cut the rope. Trying to drop her as slowly as possible so she didn't snap her neck if it wasn't snapped already, Michonne let her go and then swung her katana quickly to sever the rope from the tree.

Sasha crashed to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Michonne had never felt so panicked in her life. Her hands trembled with adrenaline as she removed the rope from Sasha's neck, revealing purple rope burns that scarred her skin.

"God Sasha," Michonne cried, tears escaping her eyes. She pressed her fingers to the cold skin of her neck, feeling for a pulse. She felt nothing. It was obvious Sasha wasn't breathing. Her lips and face had turned purple, and her skin had a grayish hue. Who knew how long she'd been hanging from that tree? But she wasn't a walker yet, so Michonne had to try something.

"Rick!" she screamed again, to no avail.

She had to do CPR, and she'd taken a class through her job once, but it was so long ago she didn't remember the whole procedure. She tried to think back to all the times she'd seen CPR on television, and replicate that.

She tilted Sasha's head back, took a breath, and exhaled into Sasha's mouth, holding her nose to prevent the air from escaping that way. She then placed her palm on Sasha's chest, and pushed down repeatedly. She knew there was a specific number of times she was supposed to push, but she couldn't remember how many, and she was too panicked to care.

She breathed into Sasha's mouth again, and repeated the compressions, not noticing any change.

"Come on Sasha, please. Please!" Michonne begged, pushing down on the smaller woman's chest again and again. She pulled Sasha's shirt up and pressed her ear directly to the skin on the woman's chest. She thought she heard a faint heartbeat, but she wasn't sure. It could've just been her own, her heart was pounding loudly enough for the both of them.

"Is that you?" she asked Sasha. She held her hand to Sasha's nose, feeling for breathing, but the wind had suddenly picked up, and she wasn't sure if she was feeling a breath or it was just wishful thinking. Still, encouraged, Michonne breathed into Sasha's mouth again, this time trying to fill her lungs up like a balloon.

She pulled her head away, and just when she was about to continue with the compressions, she saw Sasha's lips open slowly, her tongue moving spastically.

"Sasha?" Michonne asked, pausing the compressions.

She reached for her wrist to feel for a pulse, but she couldn't feel anything, and she wasn't breathing. Sasha's lip twitched again, and Michonne's hopefulness turned to despair. She was turning.

Michonne leaned away from her friend and locked eyes on her as she reached for the knife at her waist.

Sasha twitched again in a spastic movement, and Michonne lifted the knife in preparation to bring it down on her skull. Suddenly, Sasha took what looked like a breath, and Michonne paused, confused about what she'd just seen. She waited, staring at the woman who had stopped twitching momentarily, and then she saw another breath. And another.

Still holding her knife with her right hand, Michonne placed the middle and pointer fingers of her left hand on Sasha's wrist, and felt for a pulse. She still couldn't feel one, but it was obvious that Sasha was now breathing, her eyes and lips beginning to twitch once again.

"Oh my God," Michonne whispered. "That's it Sasha, breathe. Breathe."

The woman took gasping breaths, the air rasping through her bruised windpipe, but every breath was a relief to Michonne. She watched as Sasha's color changed over the course of a few minutes. Her skin began to take on its normal brown color, and her lips were less and less purple.

A few minutes later, her eyes began fluttering.

"Hey Sasha, I'm right here. It's Michonne, you're okay. Just relax alright? You have to catch your breath."

Michonne felt for Sasha's wrist again, and finally her pulse was strong enough that she felt it.

Sasha finally opened her eyes, in a confused daze. Her eyes were unfocused and glazed over, and she wasn't blinking.

"Sasha," Michonne called, holding her hand. To her delight, Sasha's eyes slid to Michonne's face, but there was no sign of recognition. "Hey, you're going to be okay, alright? How is your breathing?"

Sasha seemed to be able to move her head now, and it slowly rolled from side to side. She gasped and closed her eyes.

"Come on, stay awake," Michonne said. "Look at me."

Sasha didn't respond and her breathing began to slow again.

"Hey!" Michonne shouted, slapping Sasha's face. Her eyes fluttered open once again.

"You're not gonna die on me. Not after all the trouble I went through to bring you back," Michone demanded. "Wake up. I'm not going back to the group by myself."

Sasha's eyes moved to Michonne's again, and they flicked back and forth across the woman's face. Sasha blinked, and Michonne knew she was able to see her now.

"That's it," Michonne said, nodding her head. "You're gonna breathe, and you're gonna live."

Michonne waited by Sasha's side for five more minutes, until the woman seemed to be able to voluntarily move her limbs.

"Hey, can you sit up?" Michonne asked, once she was sure Sasha could wiggle her fingers and toes. Still not speaking, Sasha attempted to sit up by herself, but Michonne assisted her and was there to catch her when she almost collapsed back to the ground.

"Dizzy?" Michonne asked. "I wish I had some water for you, but I wasn't expecting to be out this long. Rick will come looking for us soon, he'll be worried."

Sasha opened her mouth, attempting to speak, but only a squeak came out.

"Hey don't try to talk. I'm sure you damaged your trachea."

Sasha swallowed painfully and attempted to speak anyway.

"Sor-" she let out with a high pitched squeak. She rubbed her neck, her fingers tracing the angry red burns. "Sor-ry."

"You don't have to apologize," Michonne said, placing her hand on the woman's shoulder. "You were hurting. You _are_ hurting. I'm sorry we weren't there for you more. But this, this isn't the way to go Sasha."

Sasha sucked in another breath, and Michonne was sure it was painful for her to do so, but she definitely looked much healthier than she had 10 minutes ago.

"I... know," she squeaked out. She swallowed again and cleared her throat. "I know," she repeated, her voice hoarse but getting slightly deeper.

Michonne held her hand and gently squeezed it. She certainly didn't want to preach to Sasha, but she also wanted to let her know that regardless of what had gone down between them the day before, she was on her side. And she was going to do everything in her power to help her through her grief.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Sasha attempted to speak again. She felt it was important to talk to Michonne and explain her actions.

"I'm not sure why... I didn't use my gun," she whispered, her voice so soft Michonne had to lean in to understand her. "I could've just ended it quickly…"

A tear dropped from Sasha's eye and created a stain on her dirty shirt.

"I've heard before, if the person does something that can be reversed, like cut shallowly, or use poison or something, they don't really want to die. I hoped dying would make me not feel. But I'm back here…" her voice broke with a squeak. "And nothing's changed, and I'm still… I'm still left with nothing."

"No," Michonne said, caressing Sasha's hand. "You have something. You have _family_. You're not in this world alone. And even if you don't feel like going on, you do it anyway. If not for you, do it for them. Every minute is a fight to want to stay here, but you can take it minute by minute at first. Then day by day. Then week by week. And maybe one day you'll get to the point where you'll _want_ to be here, because you'll realize if you weren't here you'd miss out on all the beauty this world has to offer. Can you do that? Can you try?"

Sasha looked down at her feet while rubbing the burns on her neck gingerly. "I'm not going to try it again. It didn't happen as quickly as I thought. There were a few seconds where I was just swinging there, my head feeling like it was about to explode, my heart pounding in my chest, my neck in so much pain… and the only thing I could think about was how disappointed my Dad, and Tyrese, and Bob would be. I thought about how much of a coward I'd become. Dad didn't raise me like that. Tyrese always encouraged me to be the best woman I could. And Bob… he just loved me. He wouldn't want me to use his death as an excuse to destroy everything around me, including myself."

She paused, sucking in another raspy breath. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry you had to find me like that. I'm not better but… I don't want to die anymore. Not without trying to live for a little while longer."

Michonne nodded and continued to rub Sasha's hand.

"I won't tell anyone, not if you don't want me to. Just please promise me if you feel the same way again, you won't go anywhere alone. All you have to do is sit by me, and I'll understand. I'll distract you, or just be with you. This life is hard on everyone, but i think there's an endgame, you know? It won't be like this forever. There's more, you just have to fight through the darkness to get to the light."

"How are you so optimistic?" Sasha whispered.

"Because I've been here before," Michonne admitted. "A while ago I lost my boyfriend, and my son."

Sasha listened intently, but then again she wasn't that surprised. Everyone had lost someone in this world.

"When I was on my own, I was in a dark place. I started to envy walkers. Every time I ran into one I thought, I'm just gonna let it bite me."

Sasha's eyebrows rose in disbelief. She never took Michonne for the suicidal type, but then again, she never took herself for that type either.

"Next thing I know, my sword is chopping off its head like it's got a damn mind of its own. So I put the sword down, but I killed them with my bare hands." Michonne gave a wistful smile. "Eventually I just gave up. At first living felt like a mask, until it didn't. I can't say I never thought about dying again. That just wouldn't be true. We're surrounded by death and the dead every day. But Rick and Carl helped change that for me. And I want to help change that for you."

Sasha squeezed Michonne's hand and looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "What I did yesterday. To you. To Abraham. To everyone."

"You're gonna tell them yourself," Michonne said, rocking to her feet while still holding Sasha's hand. She placed her other arm underneath Sasha's and helped her get to her feet. She was still wobbly and needed support, but Michonne was surprised she was able to walk at all after basically being dead 15 minutes ago.

She gathered Sasha's gun and knives, and helped her put her boots back on before collecting the rope from the tree. Michonne examined the offending material before throwing it on the ground and walking away.

"You know," Michonne said, wrapping her arm around Sasha's waist before they headed back to the store. "There are ways to hang yourself quickly. If you tie a knot in the right place it'll snap your neck instantly. The way you did it… it seems like you did everything right _except_ for that knot. Like maybe, you _hoped_ someone would find you."

Sasha was silent for a few moments as they slowly made their way through the crunchy leaves.

"I was a firefighter," she rasped. "And a girl scout before that. I know a lot about ropes and knots. I guess…", Sasha shrugged, "I guess deep down I didn't really want to die."

Up ahead, Michonne heard the unmistakable crunch of boots and she instantly knew who it was.

"Michonne?" Rick called out, "Sasha?"

"Over here," Michonne yelled, and then she pulled Sasha closer to herself. She leaned down slightly and whispered into Sasha's ear.

"Everything from now on is your second chance at life. What you do with it now is up to you."

***can08writer***

There were many questions about what happened to Sasha's neck when she returned to the group, and since Sasha refused to answer, Michonne also kept quiet about it. Even to Rick. She figured Sasha would say something when she was ready.

They gathered whatever water they could collect from the furniture store's toilet water reservoirs. In all it came out to two water bottles full, but that water could mean life or death later on in the day.

They gathered their belongings and continued down the road, Daryl helping Sasha walk as she was still a little weak.

Rick wanted to ask Michonne about the Sasha incident, but she seemed set in not disclosing what had gone on. But he wasn't stupid, she had obvious rope burns around her neck, and her eyes were red from the popped blood vessels. It was clear she'd been strangled, and he assumed she'd done it to herself. He was grateful Michonne had decided to go after her, and that she'd gotten there in time.

Rick glanced over at Michonne as they walked, leading the pack. Michonne had been quiet for the past few miles, her eyes fixed on the road ahead of her. It was obvious her mind was somewhere else.

Judith made small noises as she hung on Rick's chest in a harness. He had to be careful about how he held her, since Judith was still sans diapers. She'd already peed on the front of his shirt, and he knew she'd do it again.

Michonne looked over and gave a small smile at Judith's little noises.

"You're way happier without that soggy diaper aren't you?" Michonne asked the little girl.

Judith kicked her legs and began to gnaw on the strap of her carrier.

Rick chuckled at Judith's enthusiasm. "I think she likes the breeze on her skin."

"Wouldn't you?" Michonne asked.

Rick nodded as his eyes searched the road ahead of them. He then turned back to Michonne.

"Are you alright? You seem… preoccupied."

"Yea, I'm fine," Michonne answered quickly. She then paused, thinking about what she'd just said, looked over at Rick, and said, "I'm not... fine. But I will be."

"What are you thinking about?" Rick asked, instinctively moving closer to her so he could read her expressions.

"It's not about you… us… it's not about that. I was just… thinking about who I was before I met you, and how I am now."

Rick was quiet for a beat, trying to understand what was bothering her.

"What about it?"

Michonne looked into his eyes now, and gave him a small smile.

"I'm just… I'm glad that we found each other. Do you remember when we found that car with the child walker inside?"

Rick nodded, his mind going back to the boy walker that he and Carl had released from the locked car. Michonne had gotten upset and disappeared into the woods, while he and Carl ended the walker and burned its body.

"That child, it brought back a lot of memories for me. Bad ones. When I walked away from you and Carl and went into the woods, I started to talk to my boyfriend, Mike. He told me that I knew what I had to do to free myself from the pain. I know it wasn't really him talking, it was my own mind. But there were two choices I could take. I could forgive myself, or I could kill myself."

Rick's eyes widened at the thought that Michonne might have killed herself at that point. It was just after they'd been attacked by the Claimers, and he was beginning to realize how much he truly cared about her. He thought about how devastating that would have been for himself and Carl, and his heart clenched.

"I chose to forgive myself," Michonne continued, "and after I did that I haven't regretted it for a second. Recent events have just made me remember that."

Rick nodded thoughtfully, and Judith let out another coo. He knew she had to be thinking about whatever went down with Sasha in the woods. He wanted to ask her about it but until the two of them wanted to disclose what'd happened, he wouldn't ask.

"I'm glad you made that decision. I don't think Carl and I would've been able to recover if we'd lost you. We certainly wouldn't have gotten as far as we have. And we wouldn't be on our way to Washington D.C."

They met eyes once again and smiled simultaneously.

"I have a lot more to look forward to now," she said, shooting Rick a knowing look.

"You do," he answered, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. His fingers gently squeezed her skin, and she covered his hand with her own.

Rick spotted Carl in his peripheral vision, smirking at him from underneath his sheriff's hat. Carol was also watching, but she was being more stealthy about it.

Rick sighed and removed his hand, but Michonne caught it and held it for a few more seconds, making eye contact with him before letting him go.

***can08writer***

By the next day they had to boil the remainder of the water they had left. The two bottles they'd collected from the furniture store, and the two bottles they had remaining was enough to make one bottle of formula for Judith, and allow the others to get a few mouthfuls themselves. But that was it. They were desperate.

There was also another problem. Judith was running dangerously low on formula, as that was the only thing she was eating. Rick had tried introducing her to solid food, chewing up some of the meat they'd hunted and offering it to her, but she'd refused, and Rick couldn't help but notice how small she still was for her age.

He was worried she wasn't growing properly due to malnutrition, among other things.

They found a run down house, cleared it, and scoured the map, looking for any nearby sources of water, but they couldn't find any rivers or lakes that were a reasonable distance away.

"I know that town," Father Gabriel cut in, pointing to a dot on the map. "Spartanburg, South Carolina. St. Elizabeth, St. Sarah's sister church is there. I've gone to the building a few times for church conferences. It's a mega church. It has its own cafe, school, and daycare. There may be formula there and other baby supplies. And water."

Rick glanced at Father Gabriel with a smile. This was the first time the man had truly been helpful, and he was grateful for the lead for getting food for his daughter.

"I remember there also being a super Walmart in that area, and a couple of other mini malls. They may be long cleaned out, but we'll never know until we go."

Rick nodded. "That's it. It's out of the way, so we'll make base camp here. We can use three different teams, one to check out the church, one to go to the Walmart, one to go to the mini malls. If we all go to each location together it might take a few days. If we split up, it'll take one day tops."

The others nodded, desperate for the possibility to get water and formula by the next day.

"Abraham, Daryl, Carol, you take the Walmart," Rick said, pointing at the map.

"Got it," Abraham said with a nod.

"Glenn, Maggie, Gabriel, you guys take the mini malls."

Gabriel's face dropped. "What? You want _me_ to go?" he asked.

"You're the expert on this area. You're the only one that's been there before."

"I… I can't…"

"You can do it Gabriel," Rick declared. "If that's okay with you two," he said, turning to Glenn and Maggie.

Glenn rubbed the back of his neck. "Yea. I guess. You can show us the best stores to check out."

Rick nodded and pointed to the church on the map. "Michonne and I will go to St. Elizabeth's. Everyone else stays put at camp. It's afternoon already, but barring anything major we should be able to get back maybe an hour after dark. Each group should take a flashlight. If anyone gets stuck out there and isn't back by late tomorrow morning we'll come looking."

They all nodded and packed things they might need for their run.

Michonne came up to Sasha who had been sitting on the couch in the house's living room.

"You okay?" she asked, crouching down so they were face to face.

"Yea," Sasha rasped, her throat still painful and swollen.

"Are you still in pain?" Michonne asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nothing I can't handle. It helps me know I'm alive."

Michonne gave her a sad smile and then leaned in closer to her.

"You and Carl are going to be the ones holding down the fort out here while we're gone. Eugene isn't much help in terms of fighting. I need to know if you can handle that right now. If it's too much we'll take Carl and Judith with us."

Sasha sighed and looked Michonne in the eyes. "I can handle it," she said. "I'll protect them. I promise."

Michonne nodded, believing her.

"Thank you, for not telling everyone. I think they know, but thank you. I don't really know what to say about… it."

"It's okay," Michonne said, placing her hand on Sasha's leg. "You don't have to say anything."

Sasha nodded. "Come back safe," she whispered.

***can08writer***

The three groups traveled to Spartanburg together, passing a few straggling walkers, and clearing a house along the way. Rick noticed the sky was darker than normal. It was only 4:30, but cloud cover made it seem like it was just before dusk.

"We might be getting rain tonight," he announced. "If we're lucky, back at camp they'll find some containers to catch it. We could use the water."

A few more miles down the road the three groups parted ways, warning each other to keep their eyes open for danger.

Rick and Michonne saw plenty of signs directing them to St. Elizabeth's Episcopal Church. Apparently it was a popular location in this neighborhood, and as they approached it they could see why. It was huge.

There were signs directing visitors to the separate buildings that made up the church. The school, the cafe, the rectory, the sanctuary, the daycare center, parking lot, and church store. A thorough sweep of the church would take hours, but they decided to hit the daycare first for Judith's sake.

The church was locked up, a positive sign for finding supplies. They smashed a window in the lobby to let themselves inside, and the light that filtered in through the large mosaic windows allowed them to see that there were no walkers around.

"Day care center is this way," Rick whispered, and they moved silently across the building's carpeted floors until they reached stairs leading to the basement. It was dark down there, and Rick switched on his flashlight.

They took the stairs carefully, until they reached a hallway with several rooms which they assumed were classrooms. Rick banged on the wall to attract nearby walkers, but the area was silent. Because they were in a basement there was no natural light to illuminate the rooms, so they couldn't split up, they had to share the one flashlight and do this together.

The first classroom was for older children. There was a whiteboard with various names and artwork. Crayons, markers, and toys were neatly put away in different cabinets, and personal belongings were packed into neat cubbies. Michonne spotted a pair of small sneakers that were tucked into one of the cubbies labeled Andrew. It was the same sneakers that Andre had worn. She wondered if Andrew was still alive right now.

Rick was haphazardly rummaging through cabinets and closets.

"I don't think there'd be formula in this room," he concluded. "This isn't where the infants stayed."

Michonne quickly nodded. She wanted to get out of this room.

"I wish we had enough space to carry some of these supplies though," he said as they moved to the next room. "Judith might want to use these crayons and markers in a few weeks when we get to Washington. She really has no toys."

"Maybe we can find something small for her," Michonne suggested.

The next classroom was for younger children. The chairs were tiny, and they observed a reading mat for the teachers to read to the children, a water table with tiny smocks that were hung up, and a puppet center.

Rick made his way to the cabinets, finding glue, napkins, sparkles, and googly eyes, but no baby formula. Michonne opened up a box underneath the teacher's desk and her eyebrows shot up.

"I found the snack bin," she said proudly. "Pretzels, granola bars and juice boxes for everyone!"

"Good find," Rick said, smiling at her. "I can think of at least one person who eats like a growing teenager."

Michonne kept the box under her arm and checked out the library stocked with children's books, while Rick continued searching. After a few minutes he whispered, "ready to move?"

"Yup," Michonne smiled, following him once again as they moved to the back classroom. Both of them let out a sigh of relief. This was the baby room.

Rick went straight to the cabinets but they were locked. He took out his axe and swung it into the metal cabinet doors, denting them in and breaking the locks before he pried them open.

They simultaneously gasped at the boxes full of baby formula.

"Thank God," Rick released.

"Look, they have gallons of purified water too, we hit the jackpot," Michonne observed.

Rick smiled at her before shoving the formula into his bag. While he was occupied with that, Michonne searched the closet and found more supplies. Diapers, wipes, baby lotion, powder, new bottles, and alcohol wipes were all inside.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of their luck, Michonne stuffed her book bag as well. They were packed full of supplies, some couldn't even fit in their bags.

"I guess we're done here," Rick laughed, holding up his hand to Michonne in a high five.

"I wonder what the others have found. If they fared as well as we did, we may not have to worry about supplies for a while."

"Okay, let's get out of here."

They made their way back up the basement steps, carrying the box of snacks and other supplies between them. When they got into the church lobby, they realized it had gotten significantly darker than it was when they'd arrived. And then they heard a roar, shaking the church's roof.

"Is that rain?" Michonne asked, hurrying to the windows. It was more than rain, it was a deluge. It looked as if someone was dumping buckets of water against the windows.

"We can't go out in that," Rick stated, coming up behind Michonne.

"You think it'll last long?" she asked.

A huge gust of wind blew parallel with the church's windows, and they watched in amazement as a whole tree tore its way through the church parking lot.

"I think we may need to stay here tonight," Rick answered.

***can08writer***

The pounding rain shook the windows of the church's lobby as Michonne stared out the window. It was dark outside, and the wind was howling. The rain flew past the windows, propelled by hurricane force winds. If they were outside they'd be soaked. She thought about the other two groups who were currently out on runs, and Carl and Judith, left with Sasha and Eugene. She hoped everyone was able to find shelter and they were okay.

She could hear Rick behind her, using the flashlight to rummage through the pews, looking for soft materials for them to sleep on for the night, but she couldn't pull herself away from the window. She used to love watching thunderstorms as a child. Something about seeing the rain pound and hearing the wind roar was soothing when you were safe behind the glass.

Rick glanced up and saw Michonne staring through the glass with a faraway look, her fingers pressed against the pane.

"Can I get a little help here?" he asked with a playful laugh. He dropped an armful of the cushions he'd scavenged from the pews. They were long and soft enough to make a comfortable mattress for the two of them.

She jumped and spun around.

"Sorry. Yea," she said, coming to join him.

"I was joking," he replied. His eyes scanned her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yea, I was just thinking about when I was a little girl. I used to love to watch thunderstorms. I found it so relaxing."

Rick squatted and began to lay the cushions out on the lobby floor.

"Really? Why?" he asked.

Michonne squatted next to him, helping him rearrange the cushions.

"I dunno, the sound of it, it was like listening to a thousand tiny drums. And the way the water would stream down the glass, there was something beautiful about it. I guess I was just a strange child."

"No, that's not strange," Rick said. "I used to be fascinated with fire as a kid. My mom had to watch me whenever she was cooking. I'd get uncomfortably close to the flame."

"You're right, _that_ is strange," she laughed.

"My mom actually took me to a therapist for it. She thought I'd turn into a pyromaniac when I grew up. Instead I became a deputy."

Michonne paused for a moment. "You were a deputy?"

"Yea. For King County."

"No way," Michonne said, placing her cushion on the floor. "I went to King County's Law Enforcement Ball two years ago. A friend of mine invited me, she knew lots of the deputies in that area."

"I was supposed to go to that ball!" Rick said, excitedly. "Lori and I had planned to go, but we got into an argument. I don't remember what it was about, something stupid, petty. But we ended up not going. I was pissed."

"You didn't miss much," Michonne said with a laugh. "The only good part about it was the open bar. I spent the night nursing multiple drinks as my friend gathered a crowd of eligible bachelors."

"What was your friend's name?" Rick asked.

"Maryann Walters."

"Maryann?" Rick asked, amazed. "I knew her. She dated Shane, my best friend, for a while."

Michonne smiled. "Maryann, she definitely got around. But it's amazing that you knew her. And maybe, if you and your wife hadn't gotten into that fight, we might've met that night."

Rick smiled. "If you had seen me that night, would you have talked to me?"

Michonne looked him up and down. "You? A married man? Hell no."

He chuckled. "Even if I was single I probably wouldn't have had the nerve to approach you anyway."

He reached into his bag and pulled out an emergency candle. He lit it and the room illuminated with a dull orange light. He then turned off his flashlight.

"Why not?" Michonne asked, settling onto one of the pillows and crossing her legs.

Rick mimicked her posture and sat in front of her.

"I wasn't the type of man to approach a beautiful woman. And I'm sure you looked beautiful that night, sipping your drink. Believe it or not, I was very shy at one point."

"Hmm, I don't find that hard to believe," Michonne teased.

"You think I'm shy?" he asked.

"I know it," Michonne said, leaning forward.

"How do you know that?"

"Because if you weren't, you'd kiss me right now."

Rick's eyes widened, and his eyes immediately dropped to her plush lips.

"Would I?" he murmured.

Michonne opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Rick had leaned forward onto his hands and knees, and pressed his lips against hers.

Michonne went light headed, as their lips touched. The soft contact caused a warmth to build up in her chest, that spread down her arms and abdomen.

Rick couldn't hide his excitement as the kiss he'd wanted to give her for a long time happened. Her lips felt as soft as they looked, and he immediately opened his mouth and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, tasting her sweetness. Michonne let out a soft moan that turned him on immensely.

He sucked her lip again, and then slowly dipped his tongue into her mouth. When Michonne swirled her tongue around his, the tingling he felt all over his body increased.

His hands moved to caress her face, cupping her cheeks and holding her head there. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, encouraging him to continue.

He wanted her with all of his being. More than anything. He felt like everything that had happened to him in the past few months was leading up to this moment. Was leading to this woman.

Michonne moaned again, and was startled when Rick pulled away from her, breaking their kiss.

Her eyes scanned his, unsure of why he stopped. He still held her face in his hands and he was staring into her eyes.

"I think… No, I know… I love you Michonne. I didn't know it at the time, but I have since I met you in that bathroom. Since I met eyes with you. You're right, I'm shy. I don't say this much, not even to Carl. I try to hide my feelings, put them aside for everyone else's benefit, but I just have to tell you. I love you."

Michonne's eyes widened and then softened. She placed her palms on each of Rick's cheeks and held them, the same way he was holding hers, and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Rick's eyes closed in contentment. She moved her head away and he opened his eyes again.

"I love you too Rick," she whispered.

They smiled and gazed at each other, amazed at how happy they both were with those few small words.

Rick leaned in and kissed Michonne's lips again, his lips then began to wander to her cheeks, her ear, and down her neck. Michonne giggled as his beard tickled her cheeks, but she held him to her more tightly.

He placed his arm around her waist to support her, and then gently leaned her back against the pillows before lying his body on top of hers.

_Authors Note: Rating on this fic will change to an M next chapter!_


	17. Chapter 17

"Wait, we're really going to do this?" Michonne panted, after pulling her mouth away from Rick's to catch her breath.

He didn't stop kissing her neck, but in between kisses he groaned, "yes. Yes. Hell yes."

She laughed, yanking at his hair as he planted kisses on every area of her body not covered by clothing.

"Wait," she commanded, pressing her hand against Rick's chest.

He froze, and the look on his face was that of a puppy denied his favorite toy.

His expression made her burst into laughter.

"Come on," she said, untangling herself from him and getting to her feet.

Rick was confused.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"_We_ are going to take a shower," Michonne explained, kicking off her shoes.

Rick still lay on the cushions, staring at her in the warm glow of their candle.

"Michonne… there is no shower," he said dumbly.

She sighed, reached for his hand and pulled him up from the floor without explanation. She then led him to the window, where the rain was pouring as hard as ever.

Without a word, Michonne kicked off her socks. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt, and facing away from Rick, she slowly lifted her shirt up and off her body.

Rick watched her in the darkness, his eyes unable to turn away from her smooth brown skin.

Aware Rick was now staring, Michonne reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, allowing it to slide over her shoulders and then drop to the ground.

Rick felt wetness on his chin and realized his mouth was hanging open and saliva was dribbling out. He closed his mouth and stared at Michonne's naked back. Almost like a magnet, he was drawn to her until his chest had bumped into the skin of her back. He moved her hair to the side and planted more kisses to her neck, while reaching his rough hands to cover her breasts, his blistered and calloused palms rubbing against her hardened nipples.

Her skin was so smooth he couldn't help but rub his face against her shoulder.

"You're amazing," he whispered. "You're so beautiful."

She giggled and turned her head so she could plant another kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, but you're way too overdressed right now."

She turned around, and her perky brown breasts were now in front of his face. Just as they had been the first time he saw her. They were so beautiful he got distracted again, but Michonne didn't wait for him to undress himself.

She reached under his shirt and pulled it up his chest until he was forced to lift his arms so she could pull it over his head. When he was topless, her eyes roamed across his shoulders and then down his chest. She planted her palms against his pectoral muscles, and slowly trailed her fingers down his abdomen, feeling the various scars and bruises he had there.

His ribs had healed with her help, but she could see a bullet wound, and other injuries. The marks of long healed abrasions were present everywhere. He watched as she explored his chest, mapping out the scars with her finger tips. She'd never realized how many times he'd been wounded.

Her eyes met his and he was startled to see tears in them.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You've been hurt so many times. I'm sorry."

The level of concern she showed warmed his heart. He pulled her into his arms, the skin of their naked torsos bonding together and warming them. He couldn't help but harden when he felt her nipples pressing against his own.

He allowed his hands to slide down her back and into the back of her jeans. She let out a giggle when his fingers slid around the curve of her ass and grabbed a handful, something he'd wanted to do for the longest time.

Michonne surprised him when she did the same, sticking her hands down the back of his baggy jeans.

"My ass is nowhere as big as yours," Rick laughed, kissing her temple.

"No, it's not. But it's cute anyway," she answered, patting his behind.

She soon realized that his fingers were wandering deeper into her pants, and when they curved around and touched the promised land she took a sharp breath.

"No," she said moving away from him slightly. "Not before our shower."

Before Rick could ask what she was talking about, she unzipped her pants and pulled the jeans and her panties off in one go.

Rick's dick hopped to attention at the sight of her bare body in the dim moonlight. She was magnificent. The way her breasts hung, the smooth muscles in her abdomen, her muscular thighs and arms, and the soft curves of her hips and luscious ass. God he was the luckiest man alive.

His eyes moved to the delta of curly hair between her thighs.

He was actually relieved he couldn't see what was under there. If he had caught a view of her hidden lips he may have cum on himself.

"Like what you see?" she asked Rick who was staring at her again. She did a quick twirl, ending with her back to him. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a wink.

He swallowed deeply and then nodded. "More than you can imagine."

"Good, come get it deputy," Michonne teased. Before he could respond, Michonne climbed through the broken window and out into the rain.

Rick stood staring at the window for a few seconds in disbelief. He finally glanced out the window to see Michonne, naked as the day she was born, standing with her arms open and her face to the sky, allowing the rain to wash down her body.

He could've stared at that scene forever. He wished he'd had a camera, or a sketchbook, or a painting easel to document how relaxed, happy, and free she looked in that instant. Instead, he seared the moment into his brain.

She laughed and looked at him with a teasing smile.

Finally able to move once again, Rick unbuckled his belt and stripped out of his pants and boxers, following her out into the rain.

"Done staring?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," he growled.

He took a few more steps towards her, but she backed away from him. He continued forward but she stepped back. Finally he ran at her and she sprinted away, squealing as they splashed through the puddles of water.

She was fast, but he was faster, and he caught her by the arm, holding her still. He wrapped his arms around her as the rain washed over them. His hair was dripping now, and the wind pushed against them, but they stood in the dark, naked and wet, kissing each other.

"I love you so much," he whispered again. He squeezed her tightly and then lifted her off the ground, swinging her around in a circle.

"Rick!" she cried out in surprise, but then let out a laugh as her legs swung around him.

"You're gonna make me dizzy!"

"Then close your eyes."

She did and threw her head back, as he continued to twirl her around. She felt like she was flying. And she realized this was the first time in over a year that she'd been outside and felt completely safe. Completely unconcerned about walkers or people. And it was all because of him.

When they were completely soaked he stopped spinning her, lifted her into his arms, and bridal carried her back through the window and into the church lobby.

"Well, I can say I've never run around in a church parking lot buck naked in the rain before," he admitted with a laugh. "But I can't say I'm against doing it again."

He placed her feet on the ground and pressed three kisses in quick succession to her lips. He reached down and gathered up both of their clothing, teasingly swinging Michonne's panties around his finger until she snatched it away, and they grasped hands and walked back to their pile of pillows.

Rick was grinning at her like the cheshire cat, his wet hair making curls that tumbled down his face. His growing beard hid a large portion of his face, but his eyes, his bright blue eyes, were like beacons to her.

He stood there, facing her, and she allowed herself to scan him again in the candlelight. His skin was tan from the harsh sun, and his muscles were taught due to the constant walking, running, and the lack of food. His abs were just begging to be touched, flexing and relaxing as he breathed. Her eyes continued down to the patch of hair located just below his belly button, and then his throbbing cock that stuck out from amongst the hair.

He stood still as she inspected him, he wanted her to see all of him. He didn't want to hide any part of himself from her anymore.

She made eye contact with him again, grabbed his arm, and gently pushed him towards the pillows. He got the message and sank down on to them, looking up at Michonne lovingly. Each time he stared at her nakedness, his cock got harder and harder, and at this point, his thick cock was straining towards her. He wasn't sure how much he could take.

Ever so slowly, Michonne knelt down next to him and threw her leg over his body, straddling him. He held on to her waist, his fingers slowly caressing her. His eyes traveled from her breasts, to her abdomen, to the patch of hair between her thighs, and then back to her face, her locs cascading from her scalp and across her nipples. He licked his lips with anticipation and then met her eyes once again.

The look of love she wore in her wide eyes nearly made him cry.

Leaning over him slowly, she kissed him, their lips slowly rubbing against and past each other. Michonne's breasts pressed against his chest, and her full weight sat on him, and he'd never felt more happy.

His fingers soon began to wander, his left hand sliding around Michonne's waist to grip her firm backside, while his right ventured between her legs until he found her clitoris.

She sucked in a quick breath and moaned, but continued kissing him. Slowly and carefully, his thumb circled her clit, and he could feel the muscles in her thighs clench against his waist.

"That feels good?" he whispered against her cheek during a break in their kissing.

"Yes Rick," she whispered back, running her fingers across his cheek, and through his hair.

She aligned herself with his body and sat upright, so she was straddling his waist, and she began to grind against his pelvis, as he thumbed her.

"God…" Rick groaned, his eyes falling closed as she moved against him. As good as he was feeling, he never forgot to keep his thumb circling her, and soon she was letting out small sighs and whimpers, and her grinding became deeper and harder against him.

He could hear her pant as she got more and more turned on. It had been a long time since he'd made love, and he guessed it'd been the same for her. He wanted to make sure she was properly ready before they continued, he didn't want to hurt her, but he was becoming desperate for her.

He pried his eyes open long enough to see she was now bent backwards, her hands resting behind her on his thighs to steady herself. Her hair falling down her back, and her breasts pointing towards him like appetizing desserts just waiting to be eaten. But what made him lose it was the sight of her brown pussy lips now visible to him because she was leaning backwards, and the way they were just beckoning him to her.

He couldn't take it. "Michonne, please, please…" he cajoled.

Her eyes still closed, she opened her legs wider and carefully slid on to Rick's erect dick.

Her eyes shot open while Rick's eyes slid shut at the sensation.

They both moaned loudly, not trying to stay quiet at all. Rick's right thumb continued stimulating her clit, as his left hand gripped her right hand, their fingers entwined.

She squeezed his hand tightly as she began to move, slowly riding him. The slow pace was like a tease, but it felt so good. He opened his eyes so that he could remember this, how it felt and what it looked like to have Michonne riding him. He was surprised to find she was staring right back at him, and it was that much more erotic that they locked eyes while they were making love.

He swirled his thumb across her clit faster and he felt her stiffen and let out a hiss, her hair falling across her face.

"You like that, baby?" he groaned. He could feel her muscles spasm around his dick.

"Yes deputy," she released in a breathy moan.

He slapped her ass and her eyes opened in surprise. A laugh escaped her throat.

"You making fun of me?" Rick asked in a dangerous growl that made her pussy clench.

Michonne leaned towards Rick until she was inches from his face, and placed her hands on either side of his head.

"Yes deputy," she said again, staring into his eyes.

He slapped her ass again, enjoying the weight of her cheek in his hand. He squeezed and kneaded her ass, smoothing his hand across it. He grabbed her waist and pushed her down on his dick as deeply as he could. He could feel her muscles clench around him and she moaned in ecstasy, her hands coming to rest on his chest.

"Fuck me deputy," she whispered.

That was it, Rick couldn't take any more teasing. He grabbed Michonne's waist in order to keep her still, and he pounded into her as she sat on top of him.

Michonne could only hold still as Rick's full girth plunged into her, filling her completely. Her mouth opened into an O as she felt him slide in and out of her. Her nails dug into his skin as she tried to hang on for dear life. Soon she was making noises like an injured animal, and Rick was grunting nastily as he unleashed his desires.

He had all of her, but each thrust made him want more. He sat up so he and Michonne were face to face, and then flipped her over so she was on her back on the cushions, her hair splayed out like a halo around her head. She wrapped a leg around his waist and he held it there with one arm as he steadied himself with the other.

His eyes stared into hers as he rocked into her, amazed that all of this was even happening. He couldn't stop himself from leaning into her again, their lips crashing together as he kissed her with everything he had. Wanting to be close to her in every way possible.

She moaned again and threw her head back, allowing him to claim her neck with soft bites and passionate licks.

She was gripping him tightly, her walls squeezing him rhythmically. He knew she was close, and it was driving him insane.

He reached between them and found her clit again, pressing his finger to her sensitive nub.

"Ahh…" she moaned, gripping his arm as her muscles clenched his dick.

"You comin' baby?" he asked, whispering against her ear.

"Mmmhmm deputy," she gasped, her body whining against him, their hot skin sticking together.

"Me too," he huffed, feeling the sudden rush of blood that told him orgasm was imminent.

"Yes, yes, nowwwww" she groaned, and her entire body went rigid. The leg that was up, wrapped itself around Rick of its own accord, and he felt her clenching around his cock as her body rhythmically contracted. The mini earthquake inside of her was the last straw, as his body erupted like a volcano, releasing his payload inside of her.

They grasped for each other, and they held hands as they came down from their orgasms, their chests heaving wildly.

Rick collapsed on top of Michonne, his head finding solace nestled between her breasts. He could hear her heart racing, and feel his own.

"Am I… crushing you," he panted out.

"No," she grunted, as she lay with her eyes closed.

"Good 'cuz… I can't move."

"Old… man…" she gasped.

Rick chuckled.

Eyes still closed, Michonne moved her right hand which Rick was still clasping, to her mouth, and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. He responded by pressing a kiss between her breasts.

They lay in silence, Michonne using Rick as a blanket, while Rick used Michonne as a pillow.

Michonne could feel her body relaxing as she began to nod off underneath the warmth of Rick's body. Suddenly his weight lifted off of her, and she sleepily opened her eyes and searched for him. He was back within seconds with a large curtain he'd snatched from another window. Plopping down next to her, he pulled the curtain over the both of them, and wrapped his warm body around her.

Michonne sighed in contentment, her cheek finding his chest, a spot that she now decided was the most comfortable place for her to sleep on. Rick's hand cupped her ass, squeezing and patting it a few times for good measure. She chuckled at his fascination with it.

Placing a kiss to her forehead, Rick let out a sigh. The lobby was quiet, except for the steady drum of the rain, still beating down on the roof and windows. The two of them lay there, content and sated, until sleep overtook them.

*****can08writer*****

"It's still early, maybe we should check out the cafe before we head back. Best case scenario we find more food than we can carry and we have to come back here again with the others," Rick suggested as he pulled his jeans up his hips.

"Mmm," Michonne grunted in agreement, as she hooked her bra. She was still exhausted and pleasantly sore from their night and early morning of lovemaking. Although, she had to admit she was the one who initiated the early morning fun. The feel of Rick's erection pressing into her thigh first thing in the morning was too tempting to pass up. But she knew she'd be paying for her greed by walking funny for a few days.

She pulled on her shirt and turned around to see Rick staring at her.

"You okay?" he asked, nothing but concern in his eyes.

She smiled to ease his distress.

"I'm better than okay," she assured him.

"When we get back… how do you want to do this? Should we keep this to ourselves? Should I talk to Carl?"

Michonne smiled and wrapped her arms around Rick's neck.

"I don't think you'll be telling Carl anything he doesn't already know. Your son is very perceptive, and he's been giving me looks for weeks."

"You too?" Rick laughed. "He demanded that I tell him if we were officially together."

"Really? You talked to him about us?"

"Well, he kind of ambushed me with it. But I promised him if we decided to be together he'd be the first to know."

"So…" Michonne said, playing with the hair at the nape of Rick's neck. "Are we together?"

A grin slowly spread across Rick's face, and he leaned in, tenderly kissing Michonne's lips.

"Yea," he whispered. "If you'll have me."

"Always," Michonne replied.

They both smiled and hugged again, Michonne melting into his arms.

"Thank you," he said into her ear. His hands began to wander across her body, resting at his favorite spot, her rounded behind.

"Hmmm, we should get going before we wind up on that floor again," Michonne teased, unwrapping her arms from Rick's neck.

His lip stuck out in a pout. "Fine. Go," he grumbled, lightly smacking Michonne's butt again before reluctantly sliding his hand away.

Michonne giggled before she resumed getting dressed and gathering up their belongings and the supplies they'd found.

Twenty minutes later they followed various signs surrounding the church and located the small cafe. There was moderate flooding around the church's parking lot, and they trudged through mud and rainwater puddles to get to the cafe's front entrance.

The windows to this building had been smashed long ago. Dirt, mud, and water from the storm the night before had infiltrated the small storefront area. Tables and chairs were strewn around the open room, and there was no sign of food in sight. Without entering the store, it was clear to Rick and Michonne that it had been ransacked.

"This doesn't look promising," Michonne commented.

"Maybe there's something in the back," Rick said. He ducked through a broken window created by looters long ago, and Michonne followed behind him, unsheathing her sword as she did. They placed their bags down on the wet floor and continued past the cleared food counters to a door that led to the kitchen.

Rick tried to see through the small window in the door, but the room on the other side was dark. He knocked on the door and then pressed his ear to the opening to listen for movement, but heard nothing. He looked up and glanced through the kitchen window one more time when he caught a shadow moving in the kitchen.

Rick froze, placing his hand on his gun. This wasn't a walker. Something or someone was hiding.

"Come to the door with your hands up," Rick commanded, pointing his Python at the door. Michonne immediately held her katana at the ready. She couldn't see what Rick was looking at, but she was ready to back him up.

"There's someone in there," Rick said over his shoulder to her.

Michonne nodded, getting ready to fight.

There were a few more seconds with no movement, and Rick started to question whether he saw what he thought he saw, but the shadow returned, moving slowly in the dark of the kitchen.

"Stay right there asshole!" Rick called. The shadow paused, and Rick slowly pushed on the kitchen door. The door moved an inch and then jammed. Something was propped against it, keeping it closed.

"Move towards the door slowly with your hands up," Rick commanded.

The figure moved towards the jammed door leisurely. As they approached Rick could see an outline of hands in the air, but he still could see no real details.

He pushed on the door again and it budged a little more as whatever was against it gave some way. Rick kept his eye on the figure as it got closer and closer to the door. He pushed the door again and it slid forward a little more. Simultaneously the figure got close enough to the door that some light lit up their face, and he saw the long brown hair, pale skin, and big brown eyes of a teenaged girl.

For a split second Rick was distracted by the surprising sight, but the door suddenly gave way, and Rick saw movement on his right side, adjacent to the door. He spun and pointed his weapon at the door, but it was Michonne who lunged forward and slammed the second person against the wall of the kitchen, her sword pinning their neck to the wall. Knowing Michonne had the situation handled, Rick focused his gun back at the girl who was now holding up a knife that she'd pulled.

Michonne grunted when the person she'd pinned kicked her.

"If you don't hold still, this sword will be inside of you," Rick heard her say. He was surprised she hadn't lopped off the head of whoever she was subduing, and when he quickly turned his head to the right he realized why. The second person was another child, a teen boy around the same age as Carl.

The girl took a few steps towards Rick with her knife held high.

"Stay where you are," he ordered.

"We don't have anything. Go away!" she screamed.

"We're not trying to take anything," Rick said, "we didn't know you were in here..."

"Liar!" the boy snapped, pushing Michonne. She pushed back, pressing him against the wall again.

"Hey… hey… I'm gonna lower my gun. You lower your knives, and we talk about this calmly," Rick said, his eyes flicking back and forth between the children.

He lowered his gun, but the kids didn't relax at all. Michonne took a step back from the boy, allowing her sword to fall away from his neck. As soon as she let go of him, the boy ran to join the girl, and the teens stood back to back with their knives pointed towards Rick and Michonne. Rick and Michonne turned to keep the children in their sights.

"We're not trying to hurt you. We just came here looking for food. If there isn't anything here we'll just go."

The children glanced at each other and then behind Rick's left shoulder. Michonne heard a creak on the old kitchen floor, but before she could turn, a plank of wood went flying at Rick's head, knocking him to the ground.

Michonne pivoted and swung her sword at another figure to get it away from Rick who'd been knocked to his knees. The figure ducked out of the way, and Michonne pointed her katana just as the person held the plank up in preparation for another swing. The figure took a few steps forward and Michonne backed up, allowing them to enter the beam of light that streamed in through the kitchen door. As their face was illuminated Michonne froze.

The person stopped, the plank of wood held in midair. A wave of recognition spread across the person's face.

"Oh my God. Michonne?" they whispered, as if staring at a ghost.

Michonne began to breathe heavily as shock overcame her. She lowered her weapon as her eyes scanned the face in front of her. A smile of incredulity and relief broke out on her face.

"Jocelyn?"

_**Author's Note: Thank you for taking your time to review everyone. Hope you're enjoying this story.**_


	18. Chapter 18

"No hard feelings," Jocelyn said to Rick, as Michonne checked his scalp for bruising. "We've had to defend ourselves from people who've tried to hurt us. We hit first, figure the rest out later."

Rick brought a hand to the back of his head and felt around, his fingers combing through his hair searching for bleeding. He studied the woman who was much shorter than Michonne. She had dark brown skin, and shoulder length braids that had begun to unravel at the ends and had bits of twigs and lint, undoubtedly from her time in the wild. The teens that were with her also looked unruly and dirty, exactly how Rick and Michonne had looked before they'd taken their shower in the rain.

"That's smart. We have a similar philosophy," Rick admitted, looking from Jocelyn to Michonne and then back to the teens who were hovering nearby, knives still in hand.

"Joss, I can't believe you're here," Michonne said with a smile, leaving Rick's side to embrace the woman. The teens tensed while Jocelyn and Michonne wrapped their arms around each other and hugged like long lost sisters.

Rick had never seen Michonne look so relieved. It was obvious the women had history.

"God, it's been so long, I never thought I'd see you again Mish, and _here_ of all places."

The women pulled apart long enough to look in each other's eyes.

Rick, still confused as to who this woman was and how she knew Michonne kept his hand on his gun. He was about to ask as much when the sound of a baby crying made Rick and Michonne freeze.

Jocelyn nodded to the teenaged girl. "Enid," she stated, that one word clearly a command to do something.

Without a word the brown haired girl turned and disappeared behind a row of countertops. She appeared seconds later with a small wooden box that had handles on the sides to allow it to be carried more easily. The girl, Enid, uncovered the top of the box, and the wailing got louder.

Rick and Michonne watched on amazed as the teen pulled a baby from the wooden box and passed it to Jocelyn, who lifted the child into her arms and rocked it in an effort to quiet it. The baby was younger than Judith, maybe a few months old, and it cried as though it'd just awoken from a nap.

"Evan," Jocelyn said, another command to the shaggy haired boy, who immediately brought her a diaper bag. Jocelyn held the baby with one arm as she rustled through the bag with another, finally grabbing a pacifier which she placed in the child's mouth, quickly silencing it.

"Joss… is that baby yours?" Michonne asked, glancing at the infant's brown skin and curly brown hair.

Jocelyn smiled and looked down at the now sated child.

"This is my daughter, Gracie."

"God Joss, she's beautiful," Michonne said, leaning in to get a closer look.

"Thank you. She's just a little fussy because all this commotion woke her up."

"Have you been living here? With a baby?"

"No, we just sheltered here from the storm," Jocelyn said, placing the child's head on her shoulder. She nodded at the teens and they finally lowered their knives. "These are my kids, Enid and Evan. We found each other along the way."

Michonne reached out a hand to the kids who cautiously shook it.

"Hi. I'm Michonne," she said. She turned back to Jocelyn. "And this is my… boyfriend, Rick."

Rick couldn't help but grin as Michonne said that out loud for the first time.

Jocelyn's eyes scanned over Rick in surprise.

"What happened to Mike?" she asked rather bluntly.

The joy quickly faded from Michonne's eyes. "He died," she stated.

"Oh Mish, I'm sorry," Jocelyn said, placing a hand on her arm. "How's Dre taking it?"

Michonne blinked and looked away.

Jocelyn brought her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God. Come here," she called, pulling Michonne to her with another hug.

Rick stood looking at the women awkwardly. If she knew Michonne's ex boyfriend and son, they had to go way back.

When they pulled away from each other, Michonne wiped a tear from her eye.

"It's alright. We've all lost someone." Michonne turned to Rick. "I've known Jocelyn forever. She was my college roommate. We've been through a lot together."

Jocelyn glanced at Rick again. "Well, you've _found_ someone in all of this." Jocelyn reached out and shook Rick's hand. "Is it just the two of you?"

Michonne glanced at Rick questioningly, unsure if she should disclose too much, even to her best friend. He nodded back at her. He trusted her judgement, and if she knew this woman and felt she was okay, he believed her. Also, Jocelyn had two children and an infant with her, she wasn't exactly a threat.

"No, we're part of a larger group. You can come join us, Joss. All of you shouldn't be out here alone with a baby, it's not safe. We don't have a home yet, but we're traveling to Washington to see if there's anything left there."

"You're traveling to Washington?" Jocelyn asked, her eyebrows rising as she softly bounced her baby. "What are you looking for in Washington?"

"We thought if there was any hope for safety it'd be there," Rick cut in. "We figured there must be somewhere that's safe."

"And why do you think that? Everywhere else has gone to hell," Jocelyn responded.

"Joss there's a reason we ran into each other. There's a reason that of all places and of all times, we came to the same church at the same time. Our group can help you. _I_ can help you. Let me be there for you Joss."

Jocelyn turned to the children who were staring at her, waiting for her decision. Her eyes scanned Michonne and then Rick thoughtfully. Finally a small smile appeared on her face.

"Okay Mish. Let's go to Washington."

***can08writer***

In the weeks that Jocelyn and her kids joined the group, they'd firmly embedded themselves as if they'd been there all along. Michonne was ecstatic to have her best friend back, and when she wasn't spending time with Rick or Carl, she was hanging out with Jocelyn. Sasha was taken by the newcomer as well, and the three women became thick as thieves, chuckling with each other while on watch or doing some other task.

Carl instantly bonded with Enid and Evan who were twins. Although the two didn't speak much and tended to stay near each other or Jocelyn, the twins enjoyed showing Carl how to throw knives and set traps, and Carl taught them how to aim and shoot his gun, although they couldn't waste real ammunition or risk drawing walkers with the noise of gunfire. Jocelyn had also taught the twins how to hunt, and many times the duo had left camp and returned with rabbits, birds, and one time a whole deer. Daryl had also taken a liking to the twins, impressed with their hunting skills.

While the group was taking a midday break from walking due to the excessive heat, Michonne, Jocelyn, and Sasha sat under the shade of a tree, with Jocelyn nursing Gracie, Michonne sharpening her sword, and Sasha cleaning her gun. Michonne observed Enid, Evan, and Carl disappearing into the woods to hunt, and she couldn't help but ask Jocelyn how they'd gotten so good at hunting.

"_I_ learned by trial and error. God knows I knew nothing about the woods before all this. I nearly starved in the beginning before I figured out how to make a trap. Evan taught himself how to throw knives, and then he taught Enid. And Enid made a slingshot out of a deer carcass we found, and she taught herself how to use that as well. I'm proud of them, they've come a long way since I found them," Jocelyn explained. "Kids are amazing. They learn, they grow, they adapt way better than adults can. Once you teach them what they have to do, and they see that it keeps them safe and alive, they'll _never_ turn away from it. They're capable of anything."

"How did you survive with three kids, Joss? And Gracie, where is her father? _Who_ is her father?" Michonne asked.

Jocelyn sighed and shook her head from left to right. "It was a blessing when I found the twins. They were sleeping in a van with nothing. No food, no supplies… they were just wandering. I was five months pregnant with Gracie and I needed help, so I took care of them and they took care of me. I wouldn't have survived Gracie's birth if it hadn't been for Enid. They have been my kids ever since. Their parents just… broke. They left them to die. I mean who does that? Who abandons their kids? Who doesn't protect them?" Jocelyn looked down at Gracie while she nursed, and pulled her daughter to herself a little closer.

"And Gracie… I don't know who her sperm donor was. I was attacked, maybe a month or two after everything shut down, and she was the result. I managed to stab him though, bad enough that I know he's not wandering around out there. At least not alive."

Michonne had to blink back the tears as she listened to her friend's story, and she placed a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. "I'm so sorry you went through that Joss. My God."

Sasha shook her head in shock. "How did you… how did you move on from that?"

Jocelyn's face was expressionless except for her eyes, that stared off into the distance as she pictured her past in her head. "It was hell. I was alone and hopeless. I didn't think anything would get any better. But the good thing was being alone taught me how to take care of myself. I realized I was stronger than I ever thought I was. And once I noticed I wasn't alone, that I had a passenger onboard, I vowed to be the fiercest I could. I had to take out any threat to my child. My children. And any other children that needed help."

Sasha nodded as Jocelyn spoke, and Michonne mirrored her. It was amazing how they'd _all_ survived such horrible circumstances.

"This group seems to be doing well. The fact that Judith and Carl are healthy and strong is amazing. I haven't seen any other groups with children. For a while I thought it was inevitable that I would lose Gracie. But the only thing that I _knew_ was that I'd die first, protecting her."

Sasha shook her head. "We've been through a lot. We've lost…" her voice which was still healing from her suicide attempt, cracked. "We've lost people we love. A lot of them. But Michonne was one of the people who helped us through some of the hardest times. If it weren't for her we wouldn't be going to Washington. If it weren't for her," Sasha looked at Michonne with a small smile, "I wouldn't be here."

Michonne was moved by Sasha's statement and placed a hand on top of hers.

Jocelyn chuckled and shook her head. "Mish has always been a motivator. Remember junior year when I was crushing on…"

"Trayvon Hardley. Oh I definitely remember that," Michonne said with a laugh.

"Trayvon Hardley. He could do no wrong in my eyes. I was so desperate for him to ask me out, and you got so tired of hearing me drone on and on about him that you bought me a sexy ass outfit, got two tickets for a movie, and just shoved it in my face and was like _go get him._ I never would've gone through with it if you hadn't forced me to. But finally, after your… uh… encouragement…"

"I locked her out of our dorm room until she did it," Michonne said to Sasha with a laugh.

"Yea, that," Jocelyn smiled. "Anyway, finally I asked him out, and that was the beginning of our three week relationship. I uh, realized he wasn't worth the hype once we actually went out. But if it wasn't for Mish I would've spent the rest of the semester lamenting about what could've been."

"Well I did it for my self-preservation. I couldn't take another week of Trayvon worship," she snickered.

The three women giggled and talked until it was time to continue walking.

As the sun became low in the sky, they stopped their journey to settle down for the night. By now everyone knew their jobs and schedules, and after throwing a granola bar to Carl to make sure he ate, Michonne headed into the forest to search for firewood.

She'd found two large dry logs when she heard twigs snapping behind her. Instead of turning around, she continued deeper into the brush.

"Hey," Rick called out to her, jogging to catch up as she briskly navigated her way through the woods. She paused and listened to his boots swiftly approaching her.

She didn't turn around, so he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, and pressed her back against his chest.

"Where are _you_ goin'?" he whispered in her ear. His breath on her neck made the loose hairs that jutted from her locs vibrate, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine.

"I was just going to find some firewood," she replied with a smile that he could hear in her voice.

"Firewood huh? Looking for something hard?"

Michonne giggled as Rick rubbed himself against her behind. She leaned her head to the left and he quickly took her offering, kissing and biting at the right side of her neck.

"Mmm," she moaned, missing his mouth on her. They hadn't had much privacy since the night they'd spent together. They'd stolen kisses here and there, and gentle touches or pats, but they hadn't had the space or time to show true affection. They tried to avoid doing anything while Carl was around. He'd already consented to their relationship, but that didn't mean he wanted to see their displays of affection.

"We have a few minutes until someone misses us," Rick whispered in her ear. Michonne turned in Rick's arms and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He responded by sucking her bottom lip between his and lightly nibbling on it.

She allowed her tongue to weasle its way into his mouth, and soon they were devouring each other.

Rick slowly guided Michonne's back against a tree as he hoisted her legs up so he was carrying her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he used the tree to hold her up, freeing his hands to meander up and down her sides and eventually to her breasts. Michonne could feel the telltale soreness of being achingly aroused.

"Rick I… want you so bad… but what I want to do… is gonna take more than a few minutes," she panted.

He bit into her neck, sucking and licking at her.

"Me too, but a quickie is better than nothing. I think about you all the time. I want you all the time," he confessed, tickling her with the feeling of his soft beard against her cheek.

"I want you too. When we can, we'll go on another run. Just us."

Rick sighed and pressed his forehead against Michonne's in defeat. She smiled and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"You can wait a few more days" she stated teasingly.

"I can wait a few more days," he repeated. His hands found their way into the back of her jeans again. "But I can't promise I won't sneak some touches when no one is looking."

Michonne shocked Rick when she grabbed his erect penis through his jeans and gave him a quick squeeze.

"I look forward to it," she whispered, before bending down suggestively to pick up the firewood logs and strutting back to camp, purposely rocking her hips as she walked.

Rick stared after her with a stupid grin on his face.

She knew he needed a few minutes to calm down before returning to the group. It was hard on her as well, being in such close proximity to Rick but having no privacy. Hopefully they'd find a place in Washington where the group would be safe enough to spread out a little, and she and Rick could get some alone time.

***can08writer***

Carl followed behind Evan and Enid as they quietly trudged through the trees. They'd heard a loud group of geese fly right over their temporary camp, and the trio had gone to investigate. Daryl wasn't finding many squirrels in this area, and it'd been a few days since they'd had fresh meat.

Carl was still impressed how his companions moved so silently. It was cool. He wanted to learn how to hunt like the twins, and so he tagged along whenever they went to find something to eat.

Evan held up his hand as they reached a thick group of trees. Carl didn't see or hear anything concerning. Evan pointed at the bushes and there was a small rustle amongst the leaves.

Evan nodded at Enid, and the two of them slowly circled the perimeter of the bushes, one of them on each side, while Carl stood where he was. Evan's knife was out, and Enid held up her slingshot, her eyes firmly pointed ahead.

The rustling continued, and there was a deep grunt. Enid's eyes opened wide. Whatever was in there definitely wasn't a goose. Evan paused, and a look of uncertainty came over him.

A loud squeal and then a roar came from the bush, and the creature thrust its head forward, sharp tusks and teeth embedded in a huge snout. Enid stumbled backwards, but Evan released his knife, allowing it to slice through the air before it got tangled in the bushes.

The animal charged Evan, it's revealed body showcasing how huge it was. It was pure muscle, and it plowed into the boy, making him stumble backwards and trip over his own feet. The creature let out another growl and then took off into the woods at top speed while the teens lay there stunned.

"Are you okay?" Enid asked her brother, slowly approaching him.

Evan looked down at his body briefly and then reached out a hand to his sister who pulled him to his feet.

"That was a boar," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "We could've had fresh meat for weeks."

"I think we should leave that one alone," Carl said, with a nervous laugh. If it wanted to, that pig could've gored them all to death.

"Fuck that," Evan said, retreieving his knife from the bushes. "That pig is dinner. We can take it, there's three of us, if Carl isn't too scared to hunt something big."

Carl wasn't stupid. He knew Evan was goading him on. And he knew that boar hunting was almost suicidal for two people armed with a slingshot and a knife.

"Your knife isn't gonna kill a boar," Carl reasoned. "One that size would cut you in two."

"Nope, my knife won't kill it, but your gun will," Evan replied, looking pointedly at the gun strapped to Carl's side. "If we work together we can take it down. Imagine what your group would say if we came back with a boar on our shoulders."

"What would Jocelyn say about you going after a boar?" Carl asked, hoping to talk some sense into the boy.

"She'd be proud of us for taking down something so big," Evan replied. He glanced at his sister, and then back at Carl. "Either way, we're going. Are you coming?" he asked.

Rick, Daryl, and Michonne were looking over the map of the next few miles of their journey. They were somewhere in Virginia, only a week or so from Washington DC. They were trying to decide the safest route to take to avoid some serious mountainous terrain, when they heard people approaching.

Rick looked up and recognized Enid making her way through the trees. Evan and Carl were right behind her, carrying something dark and massive between them. Rick perked up as he stared into the woods, trying to figure out what the hairy mass was, when it dawned on him that it was a huge boar.

His mouth dropped open when he realized what the teens were carrying, and he began to walk towards them in disbelief.

He heard Maggie gasp, "Oh my gosh! Look at it!"

Rick almost smiled before observing the large gash on Carl's leg, and the fact that his jeans were ripped wide open down one side.

"Carl!" Rick called, jogging to his son who was limping. "What happened?"

Carl dropped the boar without warning, and without Carl's support, Evan lost his balance and almost fell from the weight of the massive pig.

"Carl!" Rick said again, almost panicking. Within seconds, Rick and Michonne were at Carl's side, checking him out.

"It's not too deep, I don't think," Carl said, watching as his father and Michonne inspected his wound.

"How did this happen?" Rick asked him. Jocelyn approached the boar, inspecting the animal.

"Well done kids," she said with a smile. "We'll eat well for days."

"Enid's wound on her hand is worse than mine," Carl said, pointing at Enid. Jocelyn didn't seem to hear him as she continued her inspection of the pig.

"Who took it down?" she asked Evan.

"Carl," he replied.

Jocelyn squinted her eyes at her son. "Why didn't you? Or Enid?"

"I missed it with my knife. Enid's slingshot wasn't nearly enough," the boy said, bowing his head. "Carl shot it twice before it died."

"Hey Jocelyn," Carl said, attempting to get her attention. "The tusk went right through Enid's hand, I think she needs…"

"So if it wasn't for Carl saving you, both of you would've been this pig's meal and not the other way around," Jocelyn said with what could only be interpreted as disgust.

"Yes Jocelyn," the twins said together.

"It didn't happen like that," Carl said, defending the teens. "It came after all of us. It gored Enid and I tried to get it off her and it tore into my leg, and then Evan he…"

"Didn't protect his sister," Jocelyn cut in. "And she didn't protect her brother."

"Joss…" Michonne began, but Jocelyn lifted her hand.

"You were weak. And Carl had to save you." She turned to Carl and her look softened. "Thank you Carl, for doing what you had to do. My kids could learn from you."

Carl's gaze flitted from Enid and Evan's downcast eyes, to Michonne who seemed dumbfounded by her friend's reaction, to Rick who was focused on Carl's bleeding leg.

"Skin it at least," Jocelyn commanded her children before turning and walking away.

***can08writer***

"You didn't have to be so hard on them," Michonne said, sitting next to Jocelyn who was burping Gracie who had just nursed.

"I did. There's no room in this world for foolishness and mistakes. I've taught them enough that they should know how to handle something like a boar."

"Joss, it was huge! They were only working with knives…"

"If they couldn't handle it, they shouldn't've chased it. Evan likes to show off, and Enid follows him without thinking. I've spoken to both of them about it before. There's a small learning curve in the wild. Either you learn the first time, or die the second time."

"Enid's hand was wrapped up by Carol, by the way," Michonne said, looking over to where all three teens now sat with their assorted injuries. The legs of the boar and various strips of meat were smoking over the fire to make it last. The animal was large enough that they didn't have to worry about meat for a long while.

Jocelyn nodded. "I see it in your face that you don't agree on how I teach them. How I harden them. I'm hard on them because the world is hard on them. Those who are strong and smart, survive and thrive. Those who are weak and make stupid decisions, don't make it. And I want them to make it. I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure they make it."

"Look, I get it. I do. Surviving this long with _three_ kids, I'm not sure how exactly you did it. But Joss, you're all they have. You can't _only _be tough. You have to be soft with them sometimes. They have to see that it's okay."

"It's not," Jocelyn snapped. "You haven't learned that by now? It's not okay to be soft. Not when people depend on you. Softness makes you make stupid decisions. Softness blinds you to things you should see."

"You're saying that as you cuddle Gracie," Michonne noted. "Softness is part of life. It's part of being human."

"I'm keeping her quiet so she doesn't cry," Jocelyn said icily, looking down at the child who was slowly nodding off to sleep.

"Because if she cries, she puts everyone in danger. I discipline Enid and Evan so they don't make mistakes. Because if they make mistakes it puts everyone in danger. Carl has learned that much. I've been watching him, I see how he takes care of Judith. I see how he contributes to the group. I see how he steps up. That kid has learned how to survive. Rick has raised him well."

"He has," Michonne said with a nod.

"And you Mish, the woman you are now, compared to the woman I knew in college… you've learned to be hard, just like I have. That's why I can be here with you, why my children can be here. I know that when they're with this group, they're safe."

"They are Joss. But there's more to life than just surviving. They have to live and be happy too, or else what is there to survive for?"

"No," Jocelyn said, shaking her head. "Survival is all there is now."

Without another word, Jocelyn stood with Gracie in her arms, and walked away, leaving Michonne sitting alone, thinking about her friend's words.

***can08writer***

The next night the group found a barn to rest in. It was a relief to have a roof over their heads for a while, even though it reeked of wet, moldy hay, animal feces, and rotten wood. There also was an obvious mouse infestation, so they had to hang all of their food off the ground.

After a meal of smoked boar, the group settled into different corners of the barn for the night. Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith found a cozy horse stall to bed down in. Judith was fussy, so Rick paced back and forth in front of the stall's door, while Michonne and Carl lay out their sleeping bags on top of the moldy hay. Although Carl had barely mentioned the gash on his leg once it was wrapped, Michonne and Rick were trying to prevent him from overworking it unnecessarily.

"What I wouldn't give to spend one more night in that furniture store," Michonne said to Carl as she kicked a dried out pile of horse manure away from her sleeping bag.

"A bed is cool, but air conditioning? I miss that more."

"Oh God, yes," Michonne agreed.

"Michonne? Is Jocelyn like how you remember her from college?" Carl asked.

Michonne paused for a moment and glanced at the boy. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just… she seems… mean. Like, she didn't even care that Enid got hurt by the boar. And Enid and Evan, they seem a little scared of her."

Michonne sighed and glanced over the stall wall to where Jocelyn was feeding the fire with dried out hay while her children prepared their sleeping area.

"No. She's not like how I remember her. I don't think anyone is like how they used to be, but she's… harsher. Do you really think Enid and Evan are afraid of her?"

"It's just… they try really hard to impress her. To make her think they're tough like her. I think they do it so she'll love them."

Michonne sighed. "And what do you think about that?"

"I think someone who really loves you wouldn't make you have to act tough in order for them to be nice to you," Carl said bluntly.

Michonne nodded. "You're right, Carl. You really care about Evan and Enid huh?"

"They really look up to Jocelyn, like she's their mom, but I think she can also be mean sometimes."

Michonne looked over at her friend again, as the woman poked at the fire.

Michonne nodded. "I'll talk to her about it tomorrow." She arranged Rick's sleeping bag a few feet from her own, and then stretched out a blanket between hers and Rick's bag for Judith to sleep on. Judith's blanket was almost like a buffer between Rick and herself.

Carl noticed the positioning of the bags and smiled faintly.

"You know, it's okay if you and Dad sleep next to each other. Don't you want to? Now that you're together?"

Michonne felt heat go to her cheeks. "Carl… we're fine."

"I'm just saying, it's cool."

Michonne laughed and playfully flicked the brim of his hat.

"Thank you for your blessing. And so you know, I've noticed you spending some time with Enid too."

Now it was Carl's turn to blush.

"We're just friends, that's all. She knows a lot about slingshots and hunting and stuff."

"Okay, well, It's nice that the two of you are becoming friends, but I remember a time when _I _used to be the one you'd spend time with," Michone said, playfully batting her eyes at Carl.

"Michonne, are you jealous?" Carl laughed.

"Maybe a little," Michonne chuckled.

"You know I still love you right?" Carl asked.

Michonne paused and her face became serious. Carl realized what he'd said and swallowed before nodding slightly.

"I do."

Tears came to Michonne's eyes and she wrapped her arms around Carl, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"I love you too."

She pressed Carl closer to herself , and looked up to see Rick peering over the stall wall watching them. He smiled and gave Michonne a nod. She returned the smile.

***can08writer***

All was silent in the barn, when an ear piercing scream ripped Michonne from her sleep. Rick leapt to his feet a split second before she did, and the two of them thundered towards the front of the barn with their weapons out, while the frantic screaming continued.

"Get it off!" Eugene yelled, flailing and kicking his legs while a walker clawed at him, its face inches from his arm.

Jocelyn got to him first, driving a hunting knife through the back of the walker's head, the point of the knife going straight through and out the walker's forehead.

Eugene continued screaming, even as Jocelyn dragged the walker off of him.

"How did that thing get in?" Rick asked, jogging to the barn's front door which was open enough for the walker to have squeezed through. Michonne, Sasha, Daryl, and Carol were right behind Rick as they poured out the front door, looking for a threat or a herd, or any other dangers.

"Where's Glenn and Maggie?" Daryl asked. "They're supposed to be on watch."

As soon as the words were spoken, Glenn and Maggie burst through the trees, running back to the barn full speed.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Rick asked them, as the others prepared to shoot whoever was pursuing the couple.

"Are _you_ okay? We heard screaming!" Maggie said, confusion written all over her face.

"A walker got into the barn. Where were the two of you? Weren't you on watch?" Sasha asked. Jocelyn and Abraham also stepped from the barn with their weapons drawn.

"We… we just stepped away from the barn for a second. It was quiet out here, the area was clear."

"Both of you stepped away?" Abraham asked, looking from Glenn's unzipped pants, to Maggie's wrinkled top.

"You both left the barn while you were supposed to be on watch? To have sex?" Jocelyn asked, inquiring about what now seemed to be quite obvious from the way the couple couldn't look anyone in the eye.

"I'm sorry. It was silent out there. We didn't go far, we were right there. We thought we'd hear anything coming."

"You were far enough that a walker got into the barn without anyone knowing," Daryl said.

"Oh God. Did anyone get bit? Is anyone hurt?" Glenn asked, his face getting noticeably paler, even in the dim moonlight.

"Eugene almost got his arm gnawed off thanks to you two," Jocelyn spat. "How selfish and incompetent can you be?"

"We're sorry. We're so sorry," Maggie apologized.

"Sorry doesn't mean anything when someone's dead!" Jocelyn screamed.

Eugene came to the barn door, still shaking from his near death experience.

"God Eugene, Maggie and I take full responsibility for that. We should've seen that walker coming. We left our post and it never should've happened. And it will never happen again."

"Damn right you should've seen it!" Jocelyn yelled. "You were off fucking, and almost killed a man!"

Maggie's face turned a deep red, and Glenn looked down at his shoes. It was true.

"Joss calm down please…" Michonne said, placing her hand on the woman's arm.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Mish. Not after my kids could've died. Not after they _betrayed_ us. Any of us could've been bit, and I'll never trust _those_ two again!" Jocelyn spat, turning on her heels and heading back inside the barn.

Eugene looked from Maggie to Glenn with an unreadable expression on his face, and also returned to the barn followed by the others, leaving Maggie and Glenn standing outside.

No one got much sleep the rest of the night, and after apologizing once again to the entire group, Glenn and Maggie sectioned themselves away from the others in shame. Rick couldn't stay mad at the two, at least when no one actually got injured, but he couldn't say what he'd do if Michonne, Carl, or Judith got hurt because of Glenn and Maggie's late night rendezvous.

When the sun came up the baking heat came with it, and the group made a unanimous decision that they weren't doing any traveling that day. The barn offered shade, but that was about it in terms of relief from the broiling weather. Both Judith and Gracie were fussy and sweating bullets, and everyone was pretty miserable.

Jocelyn sat near her children, and Carl noticed she was giving them pointed looks and whispers. At one point she whispered into Enid's ear and the girl gave a deep sigh. She nudged Evan and stood, stretching her legs. Carl pretended to clean his gun as Enid approached him.

"Hey, Evan and I are going hunting, wanna come?"

Rick, who was sitting next to Carl, glanced up at the girl.

"Hunting? We still have half of the boar you caught last time."

"Honestly, it's hot and we just want to get out of this barn," Enid admitted. "Maybe if we find some water and a squirrel it'll be a plus."

Carl looked at his dad and Rick shrugged. "It's up to you Carl." He had been trying harder to back off and let Carl make his own decisions, and Carl appreciated the space his father was giving him. He nodded and stood, brushing hay from his jeans which Michonne was kind enough to stitch back together since the boar attack.

"Just don't walk too far, you wanna let your leg get some rest," Rick called.

Carl nodded again and instinctively checked his gun and knife before turning to follow the twins out the door.

The group spent hours in the barn, somewhat restless in the heat.

In the late afternoon, when there was no sign of the teens, Rick began to get concerned.

"Jocelyn, do you know where the kids might have gone? It's starting to get dark, I wanna go find them and bring 'em back."

"I'm sure they're fine," she said dismissively. "It's only been a few hours, and it's hot as hell in here. They probably found a stream and jumped in to cool off."

Rick scrunched up his face. "I don't like that they've been gone this long. I'm gonna go look for them."

"I'm coming," Michonne said, grabbing her sword.

"I'll go too," Jocelyn said, standing up. Michonne was surprised to see her pick up the long piece of cloth she used to fasten Gracie to her back.

"You're taking Gracie too?"

"She'll be fine, she'll be asleep in a few minutes. Besides, I'm not leaving her here without me," she said, glancing pointedly at Maggie.

Maggie narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

Jocelyn tucked her knives into her belt and followed Rick and Michonne into the woods.

"Carl!" Rick called. They'd been walking for ten minutes with no sign of the teens, and the hue of the sky told them they had a limited amount of sunlight left before the dense woods got too dark to see.

Michonne's eyes scanned the ground, looking for foot impressions or signs of a trail.

"Maybe we should go back and get Daryl, he might be able to track them before it gets too dark," Michonne suggested.

"I'll do it," Jocelyn volunteered. "I'll get him and bring him back here."

"Okay," Michonne agreed.

Jocelyn quickly turned and headed back in the direction they'd come. As soon as she was out of earshot, Rick faced Michonne.

"I don't trust her," he said plainly.

Michonne's eyebrows shot up at his bluntness.

"Ever since the incident with Glenn and Maggie, maybe before that, she's been acting strange. I can't explain it but I feel like she's hiding something."

Michonne sighed and looked in the direction her friend had disappeared in.

"I feel it too," she admitted. "I didn't want to think badly of her, but… something's off."

"I just want to find Carl and the kids, and get back. We can discuss Jocelyn later."

Michonne nodded, continuing to scan the leaves, but her mind was racing. She'd thought finding Jocelyn was a sign that the path she'd chosen, going to Washington, was the correct path. Discovering her long lost friend was all the affirmation she needed to know that everything would get better. But Jocelyn wasn't the same friend she'd known all those years. She sensed it in the way she interacted with her children, in the way she interacted with others in the group, but she was afraid to speak her doubt out loud. She'd invited the woman into their group, after all.

They combed the area for another ten minutes with no sign of Jocelyn, Daryl, or the children.

"Where the hell are they?" Rick growled. "Let's go back and get Daryl ourselves."

When they arrived back at the barn, the group was waiting there with concerned looks on their faces.

"We were waiting for you in the woods," Rick said to Daryl who was leaning on the wall in front of the barn. "Jocelyn didn't come get you?"

"Jocelyn?" Daryl asked. "Nah, she left with y'all. She didn't come back here."

The hairs on Rick's neck stood up and he immediately went into action.

"We need to find the kids. Now. Something's going on and either Jocelyn's in trouble, or she's involved. We need a search party."

"On it," Daryl said, grabbing his crossbow.

Within minutes the group had broken into teams and were combing the woods, shouting for Carl, Evan, and Enid. The sun had already slipped below the treeline, and the forest was dark in most places. Rick, Michonne, and Daryl were one of the teams out searching, and every minute that passed sent even more panic through Rick's body. All he knew was he wasn't going back to that barn without Carl. Even if he had to search all night.

"It's dark as shit. I can't see any damn tracks," Daryl sighed in frustration. "Maybe we can head downhill, see if they stopped by a lake or river and took a dip, like Jocelyn said."

Rick nodded, desperate for any lead. The trio started down a narrow slope in the woods that most likely led to water. They had to grab on to trees and roots to prevent themselves from tumbling down the steep decline. Suddenly Daryl held up his hand, and the others froze.

"You hear that?" he whispered.

Off in the distance, carried on the wind, was the sound of a baby crying.

***can08writer***

"Quiet her!" Jocelyn ordered Enid, as she and Evan hoisted Carl into the back of a van. Enid bounced Gracie frantically, humming a tune she remembered her mother humming to her as a child, but Gracie continued to scream.

"How hard did you hit him?" Jocelyn asked Evan in surprise, looking at her hand that was smeared in blood that came from the back of Carl's head.

"I wanted to make sure he couldn't shoot me… so hard," Evan replied.

"Hmm. Didn't think you had it in you," Jocelyn mumbled somewhat proudly. "We wanted him out though, not dead. I hope you didn't cause too much damage. Enid, get in the car with Gracie if you can't get her to stop."

Enid climbed into the van beside Carl who was sprawled out limp in the seat. As she rocked Gracie, she studied his face, concerned about his bleeding scalp. She rested his head in her lap, and stroked his long hair.

"You'll be alright," she said to both Carl and Gracie.

Evan slid a box of granola bars, pretzels, a can of baby formula, and pieces of smoked boar that he'd stolen from the group's supplies, next to Enid and Carl in the back of the van.

"That's all we can take. We have to get out of here," Jocelyn stated, slamming the van's trunk closed. "By now I'm sure they're all out here looking."

"Joss?" Michonne called, emerging from the trees a few feet from the van.

"Shit," Jocelyn said, her head snapping up.

"Joss, what are you doing!?"

"Don't come any closer!" Jocelyn yelled, pulling out her knife. Rick and Daryl emerged behind Michonne, holding their weapons up in response.

"What the hell is this? Where are you going with a van?" Michonne asked, placing her hand on her katana out of pure instinct on seeing Jocelyn pull her knife.

"Michonne, I don't want to hurt you. That's why I had to do it like this. But I have to go. The kids are coming too. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Where's Carl?" Rick asked. "Just tell me where my son is. You can go wherever you want with your kids, I just need my son."

Daryl spotted Carl's hat lying on the floor next to the open van door.

"I think he's in there," Daryl said, pointing to the vehicle. Evan closed the door, shielding Carl and everything else inside the van from view.

"Joss, you're not taking Carl," Michonne said, creeping closer to the woman. "I don't know what the hell's gotten into you, but this is not the way. You can take your children, that's your prerogative, but you're not taking Carl away. Okay?"

"He's better off with me. You people are dangerous. Stupid. Trusting. If he stays with you much longer he'll wind up dead. And he is too special to die because of stupidity like leaving the barn door open. I know how to teach him to survive. Rick, you've got the right mindset, but the others around you are gonna get your son killed. I'm doing you a favor. I promised to not let a child die on my watch and I can do it. The people in your group have lost children already, Carl told me about his friend, Sophia. Mish, _you_ lost Andre. Y'all have a bad track record. Mine is perfect. Don't you want your boy to live, Rick? Even if it's not with you?"

Rick cocked his gun.

"Let Carl out of that van right now, and no one gets hurt," he threatened.

Jocelyn began to back away towards the driver's side of the van.

"I wish I could save Judith too, but I can only do so much. I swear he'll be safe with me, Rick. I'll teach him how to not be so gullible. We've been taking supplies from your group for the past week and no one's noticed. Tell me you're the best survivors again?"

"Joss stop the bullshit!" Michonne yelled. "You're gonna kidnap a kid? After everything? After living with us for weeks and getting to know everyone? After we shared our food and our supplies with you? You're not leaving here in that van. You have a baby, Joss. What about Gracie? What about Enid? And Evan? And do you really think Carl will be okay with you kidnapping him?"

Joss narrowed her eyes at Michonne.

"I hoped things would be different between us," Jocelyn said, shaking her head. "Your group seemed like people my kids could be safe with. But it's not. And as much as I love you Michonne, I'm not gonna let this group put my kids in danger. Let's go, Evan," she said, gesturing for the teen to get in the van.

Rick pointed his gun at the van's tires. Before anyone could react, a knife thrown by Jocelyn went flying through the air, past Michonne's head towards Rick. It whizzed past Rick's shoulder and clattered to the ground.

Daryl released a bolt from his crossbow that lodged itself into Jocelyn's shoulder.

"Ah!" She yelled as she clutched at her wound.

"Stop it! Just surrender Joss," Michonne screamed.

Evan pulled a knife and moved towards Daryl.

"Put it down, kid. Ain't no one here wants to hurt you," Daryl warned.

Michonne unsheathed her katana and pointed it at her friend's face. "Call Evan off. You're gonna get him killed."

"You're blind to it!" Jocelyn yelled, waving her remaining knife with her uninjured arm. "You're weak just like them. Pathetic!"

"Joss, I don't want to hurt you," Michonne yelled.

Inside the van, Gracie screamed, and Enid watched terrified. Carefully she put the baby on the seat and slowly opened the van door.

"Stay right there!" Rick ordered Enid, pointing his gun at her. He didn't need both of Jocelyn's kids in the mix.

Without warning, Evan ran at Daryl, swinging his knives. Daryl tried to duck out of the way, but a knife slashed through his bicep, creating a long line of blood down Daryl's arm. Rick wrapped his arms around Evan, attempting to hold him still while controlling the gun in his hand. Evan, seeing the weapon, grabbed for it, and Rick had to push the boy away, just to gain control of his gun.

Jocelyn made for the van, and Michonne leaped on her, knocking her to the ground.

"Stop this!" she screamed at her friend. "It doesn't have to be like this! Don't do this to us!"

Jocelyn pressed her palm under Michonne's chin, pushing the taller woman up and off her. Michonne, still trying to restrain her friend, pressed her body on top of the woman again. She could see Rick and Daryl struggling with Evan who was still slashing with his knife, and kicking at them.

Enid had opened the van door and was standing frozen in front of it, unsure if she should get involved with the intense struggle.

Jocelyn, seeing that Michonne was temporarily distracted by the fight with Evan, punched her in the mouth. She reached for Michonne's sword which had been knocked to the ground, and enraged, Michonne punched her back, grabbing the sword and pressing it against her friend's throat.

"Joss, think about Gracie!" Michonne pleaded with her.

"I am!" Jocelyn growled. A sharp punch to her side knocked the wind out of Michonne, and Jocelyn used that distraction to push Michonne from atop her. Jocelyn now climbed on top and wrapped her fingers tightly around her neck.

Michonne stared into her best friend's eyes, and saw a dark, cold, stare. Her pupils were so dilated they looked pure black. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were turned up in an evil snarl as she choked the life out of the woman she once thought of as a sister. In that moment, Michonne knew either she would die, or Jocelyn would.

Black dots danced across her vision, and using the last of her oxygen, her fingers searched the ground for the hilt of her sword, finally coming into contact with it as Jocelyn growled on top of her.

Michonne couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeat as she gripped the sword with her right hand, pointed it towards Jocelyn, and sent it through the woman's abdomen.

Immediately Jocelyn's grip on her neck loosened, as she grasped at the hole in her stomach. Michonne bucked the woman from on top of her and felt a sharp pain where she'd been punched in her side.

Jocelyn rolled to the floor, struggling to breathe. Slowly, Michonne's hearing came back just in time to hear a muffled gunshot ring out and see a corresponding bright flash.

She rolled her neck to see Jocelyn breathing shallowly as she stared into Michonne's eyes. The monster she'd seen earlier was gone, and now she could see the woman who had gotten her through so many hard times.

"Gracie," Jocelyn gasped. "Gracie."

"I'll take care of her," Michonne rasped. Her efforts to talk sent more pain through her chest and stomach area.

Jocelyn's eyes suddenly went blank, and her breathing stopped abruptly.

A tear rolled down Michonne's cheek as she realized her friend was dead.

Painfully, she pushed herself up to a sitting position to see Daryl jogging over.

"You alright?" he asked, looking from Michonne to Jocelyn who was laid out on the ground.

Michonne felt dizzy and light headed, but she forced herself to nod in response to the question.

"Rick?" she asked.

"He's checkin' on Carl. I had to shoot Evan, he was tryin' to shoot Rick with his own gun."

"I have to see Carl," Michonne said breathily.

Daryl reached out his hand to pull Michonne off the ground. She grasped it, and when he pulled, excruciating pain ripped through her side. She dropped his hand, falling back to the ground.

"What is it?" he asked. "You hurt?"

"No. She just punched me in the ribs."

Daryl knelt down, studying Michonne closely.

"Can I?" he asked, motioning to her side.

She nodded, unable to even bend enough to study her own wound without the sharp pain.

He carefully moved her leather vest out of the way and immediately spotted the source of her discomfort. A small knife was sticking out of her side, with a large ring of blood slowly oozing from it.

_A/N: I hope you're all safe and healthy, and if you're not, I hope you feel better soon. I'm glad my writing can be a distraction to someone in the apocalyptic times that we're living in, and if you're enjoying the story, please reciprocate by leaving a review. Until next time!_


	19. Chapter 19

"Shit," Daryl hissed, as he observed the blood oozing from Michonne's knife wound.

Michonne felt her own side, desperate to see what was upsetting him so much, when her fingers bumped the outside of the knife that disappeared into her. She winced, and when she pulled her fingers away they were sticky and covered in warm blood.

"We gotta get you back to the barn," Daryl said, positioning his body to reach under her and lift her into his arms.

"I can walk," Michonne said, "I just need help standing up."

Daryl lifted Michonne painfully to her feet, and escorted her over to the open van door, where Rick had brought a groggy Carl to a seated position. The boy was awake, and he rubbed his face in confusion as Rick examined the back of his head, where traces of blood clung to his hair. Gracie was still crying in the back of the van, and Enid knelt next to her brother on the ground, crying hysterically over his dead body.

Rick turned to look at Michonne, as Daryl held on to her arm to give her some support.

"What happened?" Rick asked, noticing the blood on the side of Michonne's shirt. Carl looked up also, and his eyes widened at Michonne's condition.

"I'm fine," Michonne said.

"Jocelyn stabbed her," Daryl immediately revealed. "Knife's still in her. It's deep."

Michonne rolled her eyes at Daryl. "It's not that bad."

"She stabbed you?!" Rick gasped. Carl stood from his perch on the side of the van and made his way somewhat shakily over to Michonne. Rick was right behind him, hovering near his injured son. When the two of them reached Michonne, Rick moved Michonne's vest over to the side to reveal the knife that was jutting from her abdomen.

Rick hissed in sympathy and looked up at Michonne's face. He could tell she was putting a lot of energy into not grimacing at the pain.

"How's Carl?" she asked, her hand at her side, holding the knife steady.

"I'm okay," Carl responded. "My head is banging and I'm a little dizzy, but I'm okay."

"Evan gave him a cut in the back of his head, but it doesn't seem very deep," Rick said, his eyes dancing across Michonne's wound. "We need to get you both back to camp. We'll see what we can do from there."

A rustle from the bushes drew their attention. Sasha, Carol, Abraham, and Glenn emerged from the darkness, their weapons drawn and their eyes wide.

"We heard a gunshot… damn…" Glenn exclaimed when he spotted Evan splayed out on the ground covered in blood, with his sister still grasping at his shirt. Jocelyn's body was on the ground near the driver's side of the van, Michonne was bleeding from her side, and Carl was bleeding from his head. The baby screaming in the van just added to the chaotic scene.

"What the fuck happened?" Abraham asked.

"Jocelyn tried to kidnap Carl, and she and Evan attacked us," Rick said. "We gotta get Carl and Michonne back, they're both injured."

"Where'd the van come from?" Carol asked.

Enid, who was still crying over her twin muttered, "we found it."

"Look, we can talk about this later, Michonne and Carl need to be looked at," Rick said, grasping Michonne's arm and replacing Daryl.

Carl walked over to Enid, who was still crying over her brother's limp body.

"You and Evan, you planned this?" he asked softly, standing over the girl as tears poured down her cheeks. "You were gonna drag me away from my family? Hurt Michonne, and my dad, and anyone else who got in your way?"

Enid looked up at Carl and then the rest of the group that towered over her.

"I'm sorry about everything that happened Carl. I am. I didn't know Evan was gonna hit you, I thought we'd just tie you up… Jocelyn said we weren't safe with your group. She said we all had to leave before one of us wound up dead."

She sighed and her shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"We taking the girl with us?" Abraham asked Rick, gesturing at Enid. She looked up at Rick, awaiting his decision with her eyes wide.

Rick looked down at her as he considered the question. He'd already underestimated Jocelyn and nearly lost his son and girlfriend in the process.

"Tie her hands and watch her," Rick said.

Carol stepped forward with rope to tie up Enid. Sasha reached into the van and picked up Gracie who immediately quieted down once she was held. The others grabbed the supplies that had been stolen and searched the van for anything else that was useful."

Rick stood holding Michonne by her elbow, his eyes searching her face. "You'll be alright, we'll get you back to the barn and we'll take care of that. Okay?"

Michonne nodded.

"I can carry you."

"No. No, I can walk," Michonne responded, clutching her side to hold the knife still.

Before they left, Enid requested that someone at least stab Jocelyn and Evan in the head, and Daryl took pity on the girl and complied.

Slowly and carefully, Rick helped Michonne walk back to the cabin, while Carl also hovered nearby, despite his own head wound.

When the search team returned with Carl and Michonne injured, Jocelyn and Evan dead, and Enid with her hands bound, there was a string of questions thrown out at Rick and the others, but Rick didn't have time to explain.

"Maggie, I need you to take care of Michonne. She's been stabbed, the knife is still inside. And Carl got hit in the head, he's got a cut on his scalp."

"I'll take Carl," Carol said, leading him away to one of the horse stalls so she could check out his cut.

Maggie jogged over to Michonne, who Rick helped sit on a hay bale in another stall, and quickly assessed her. Rick held up Michonne's blood stained shirt, and Maggie pressed around the wound, feeling for damage. Michonne winced and let out a moan when Maggie's fingers came too close to the knife.

"Yea, it's deep," she said, almost to herself. She looked up at Michonne whose eyes were closed as she put all her energy into not making a sound. Maggie looked to Rick apologetically, like she didn't want to speak.

"What is it?" Rick asked, and the tone of his voice made Michonne slowly open her eyes to see what the problem was.

"I almost don't want to remove the knife. It can do even more damage on the way out. You're not bleeding a lot because the knife is in there. If it comes out and we don't stop the bleeding…"

"I can bleed to death," Michonne finished.

"No. That's not gonna happen. What do we need?" Rick asked.

Maggie ran her hand across her face in frustration. "I… I'm not sure. It was Daddy who had the medical training. It depends on where the knife is and whether it's nicked something we can't see. It could've hit an artery or an organ. There's no way to know. In a perfect world I guess I'd need to sterilize the wound and everything around it. Alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, sutures, a clamp…"

"We're gonna find that. Right now," Rick said, standing to his feet. "Daryl and I will go…"

"No," Michonne said. "You're not leaving right now in the dark. In the morning we can figure something out."

"Michonne, by morning you can have an infection from that knife," Maggie noted.

"I know, that's why you're gonna take it out now."

"No," Rick said, "you can bleed out."

"I heard what she said," Michonne said softly, mostly because it hurt to speak any louder. "It's my decision. You can't help me running off into the woods at night to find supplies somewhere. I need this knife out of me now, and I'm willing to take the risk. If it's out I have a lower chance of getting an infection."

Michonne turned to Maggie and nodded her head. "I trust you. Take it out."

"Uh… Okay," Maggie said, her mind racing. "I need lots of clean water, and clean rags to compress the wound with."

The whole group got to work, boiling water on the fire, and scavenging clothes that had been recently washed to serve as rags. Rick never left Michonne's side, and carefully helped her remove her shirt so she was in her bra.

"One of Gracie's baby blankets is in that bag." Enid, who was sitting against a wall of the barn with her hands still tied, pointed out to Carl who had been examined by Carol and was now trying to help. "It's clean, you can use that to help Michonne."

Carl looked at her from the corner of his eye, but pulled a blanket from Enid's bag and brought it over to Maggie.

"Oh this is the perfect size," Maggie said, examining the blanket. "Go on and cut it into strips, then tie the strips together end to end."

Michonne watched as the group tried to find helpful materials for Maggie to use, and she felt so grateful for their efforts. She had brought Jocelyn into the group. She had trusted the woman. And she'd been so wrong.

Carl could've died that night. Rick could've died. And she could still die.

She turned to look at Rick and he was quietly fussing over the materials that the family brought near them. His eyes were focused in a way that she'd seen on him many times. He was determined to save her.

When everything was prepared, Maggie asked the others to give Michonne space and privacy, so they moved a few feet away.

Maggie and Rick helped Michonne lay down on her sleeping bag, laying on her good side, and Rick placed his thigh underneath her head so that she was resting with her head in his lap.

"Hey, this is kind of like the day we met," Michonne offered in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. "Except I'm the one getting the surgery now."

Rick smiled wryly and ran his fingers down the side of Michonne's cheek. He then gripped her hand.

"Alright, I gotta do this slow, but I need you not to move Michonne," Maggie warned.

"Mmmh," she grunted, slamming her eyes closed and furrowing her brow in anticipation.

She buried her face into Rick's thigh and he stroked her hair soothingly, when Maggie began to pull on the knife.

The knife hadn't hurt horribly on the way in, but it made up for it on the way out. Michonne groaned and dug her nails into Rick's thigh as Maggie slowly yanked the knife, trying her hardest to remove it carefully without shaking it.

"It's alright, almost done," Rick whispered in Michonne's ear, but the muscles in her abdomen clenched and she let out a whimper.

"Almost out," Maggie said, and within seconds the knife was free from Michonne's side. Although it was small, the blade was long, and it left a deep bleeding hole in Michonne's side.

Michonne was breathing heavily, still groaning from the pain. Now that the knife was out, Maggie was moving quickly. She took the boiled water that had been cooling down, and dipped some of the rag strips in it, she then wiped down the area around the wound.

"Ahhhh!" Michonne cried out, her eyes snapping open.

"I know it hurts Michonne but I gotta clean this out," Maggie said, continuing despite Michonne's cry. Rick gripped Michonne tighter, pressing kisses to her cheek as she groaned from Maggie's ministrations.

Once she cleaned the outside of the wound as much as she could, she packed rags inside of the small hole, and this time Michonne screamed.

"Goddamn it Maggie!" Rick snapped.

"She's bleeding like crazy!" Maggie snapped back. "If we don't stop the bleeding we can lose her. I'm trying to save her life. Here, press down," she ordered Rick. When he hesitated, she demanded "Do it, now!"

Rick slowly scooted around Michonne, to where Maggie was working. When he saw the amount of blood dripping from Michonne's deep wound he understood what she was trying to do.

"It's alright, it's gonna be alright," Rick murmured to Michonne as he added pressure to the wound.

"Mmmmmmmm," Michonne moaned shakily.

"All we can do is provide pressure," Maggie said. "Rick you're gonna push down on those rags as hard as you can while I get the pressure bandage together. We gotta give her blood enough time to clot."

Maggie moved over so Michonne could see her face. "Michonne, I know it hurts but you just hang on. I need you to stay real still, we gotta stop the bleeding, okay?"

Michonne groaned but nodded her head as Maggie moved out of her eyesight once again.

Carl came over and knelt next to Michonne's head. He looked down at the wound that his father was pressing his hands against and his face turned a pale white in response to the amount of blood she was losing. Michonne noticed the change on Carl's face and knew it was bad, even though she couldn't see her own wound from the way she was laying.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I mean, obviously not but…"

Michonne reached out and placed her hand on Carl's. "It hurts, but I'll be okay," she said, putting on a brave face. "It takes more than a little knife to stop _us_, right?"

Carl smiled and nodded. He pressed a kiss to Michonne's hand that was clasped in his own, and her heart melted.

"I'm gonna talk to Enid now and find out what Jocelyn was planning," Carl said.

"Wait Carl, are you alright? How's your head?" Rick asked.

"It's gonna take more than a hit to the head to stop _us_, right?" he asked with a wink at Michonne.

"Right," Michonne answered.

Carl left to talk to Enid, and Michonne turned her head to look at Rick.

"It's bad isn't it?" she asked softly.

"It's not bad," Rick lied, keeping his hand firmly on the hole in Michonne's side. Her blood had already soaked through the rags and was making his hand slick and sticky.

"You're lying. You're a bad liar you know?"

"Am I?" Rick asked, using his free hand to run his fingers through her hair.

"I don't want you to lie to me," Michonne said, her eyes searching his.

"Okay I won't," Rick agreed with a nod. "It looks pretty bad. Maggie was right to be concerned. You're really bleeding."

Michonne nodded. "I still stand by my decision. It's better that the knife is out now."

Maggie came back with the rags that had been collected and tied together to create one long strip. Rick slowly removed his hands from Michonne's wound and Maggie pulled out the rags she'd stuffed inside and replaced the bloodsoaked rags with new ones. Rick helped Michonne sit upright as Maggie wrapped the rest of the fabric around Michonne's abdomen tightly.

Michonne had to bite her lip to prevent herself from screaming, but she was grateful for Maggie's quick thinking.

Once her abdomen was bound tightly, she lay back down on her sleeping bag, and Maggie pulled a blanket over her.

"Now you need to rest. I may have to wake you up in a few hours to change the bandages, but staying still and sleeping is the best thing you can do right now."

"Thank you," Michonne said to her with a nod.

"Thanks Maggie," Rick added.

Rick added more hay underneath Michonne's head and tried his best to make her spot on the floor more comfortable. He then lay down next to her in the hay, propping his head up with one hand, and using the other to hold her hand and gently stroke it.

"Get some rest now," Rick said softly.

"I'll try," Michonne replied, grimacing slightly in discomfort.

Rick leaned over and kissed her forehead, and then paused hesitantly before kissing her lips. Rick's kiss immediately lessened the pain in her side.

"Go to sleep," he whispered. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Michonne smiled and closed her eyes.

"Okay deputy," she replied with a smirk.

Rick watched as Michonne lay with her eyes closed. His eyes wandered over to the site of her wound that was hidden under the blanket. He prayed that the pressure bandage was enough to make her better.

***can08writer***

The next sensation Michonne felt was one of weightlessness. It was as if she'd had a dream where she was falling, except she was fairly sure she wasn't dreaming. She could feel herself being bounced around, and her eyes snapped open in alarm. She bolted upright before pain like a kick to the stomach knocked her back down.

"Woah, relax in there," she heard Daryl's voice say.

She squinted her eyes in the bright sunlight, disoriented and confused about where she was and how she'd gotten there.

"She's awake?" she heard Rick say.

"Yea but don't put her down right now, we're almost there," Daryl said.

"Almost where?" Michonne asked in a raspy voice. Her lips and mouth were dry. "What… what happened?"

"Hey honey, glad you're awake. We're taking you to the van," she heard Rick's voice say.

Michonne looked around and realized she was outside and being carried in her sleeping bag. Rick was leading the way, holding the side of the bag nearest her feet, while Daryl was in the back holding the side of the bag nearest her head. She turned her head to see Sasha and Maggie flanking her sides.

"What's happening?" she asked, "where are we going?"

"We're going to get you help," Sasha said, looking over at her as she walked besides her sleeping bag.

Michonne was still confused. How was it daytime already? Where was the barn? Where was the rest of the group? Where were they getting help from?

"We'll explain everything when we get you to the van," Rick said. "Almost there."

Michonne blinked to clear her vision. The pain in her side was much worse than it'd been when she went to sleep. It now encompassed her entire abdomen, and it felt like her middle had been run over by a truck. She tried to crane her neck downwards to check on her wound, but the shaking of the sleeping bag as it was carried by Rick and Daryl brought jabbing pain.

They came upon the van that Jocelyn had planned to use to kidnap Carl. She could see the bodies of Jocelyn and Evan laying where they'd fallen. Something had chewed on Jocelyn's face, taking large chunks out of it, but seeing as though the rest of her body was untouched it seemed to be an animal rather than a walker.

Sasha opened the van's door and Rick climbed into the back seat while he and Daryl pushed Michonne's sleeping bag in next to him so she was laying across the back seat as comfortably as possible while Rick sat next to her. Maggie climbed into the row ahead of them, while Sasha rode in the passenger seat, with Daryl in the driver's seat. He turned the key and the van roared to life.

"Full tank," Daryl observed, "just like Enid said."

"What is going on?" Michonne asked. "Where are we going?"

Rick stared at her, his eyes scanning her face.

"Rick? What is going on? How long have I been asleep?"

"A day and a half," Rick said, wiping his fingers across her face and neck, feeling her skin. "We were afraid you slipped into a coma. I freaked out when you didn't wake up at all when Maggie came to change your bandages. You were bleeding so much…"

"I don't understand… where are we going?"

"Carl spoke to Enid. She told him that Jocelyn had planned on taking her kids to a community that she'd heard about. She said that a few months ago, they'd met some people who were scavenging. They'd spoken about a community in Virginia that they were from, but the people were killed by walkers. Apparently the people got trapped and Jocelyn wouldn't risk her life or her children's lives to save them. Anyway, Enid said that Jocelyn was planning on taking Carl and the other kids to check out this new community since things didn't work out with our group."

"Where is this community?" Michonne asked, "how do we know it even exists?"

"We don't," Rick answered. "Jocelyn did still have a map she took from the scavengers, but they could've been lying. Or, they could've been serious. But we have to find out. You need a doctor."

Michonne read the desperate look on Rick's face. There was more to the story than he was saying.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"My side and my stomach hurts," she admitted. "And I feel… tired."

"Yea," Rick said, nodding his head as he stroked her hair. "I bet."

"Rick… what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," he said, his eyes wandering her body as if he was scanning it. "You'll be fine. As soon as we get you to a doctor…"

"Bullshit," Michonne said, narrowing her eyes. "You said you wouldn't lie to me."

Rick looked up at Maggie hesitantly, and then sighed. "You have an infection, besides the blood loss. Maggie thinks it's sepsis. You need antibiotics. That's why we're traveling to this community. They may have some. The infection is spreading from the knife wound."

"Is that why my whole abdomen hurts?" she asked, adjusting her position in the car's seat.

"Yea," Rick said. "You've been running warm for the past few hours too. Look, we can get to this community by tomorrow if the roads are clear enough. You could have medicine by tomorrow."

"Where are the others?" Michonne asked.

"Everyone else is back at the barn. If we're not back in 3 days they're gonna come looking."

Michonne sighed and sunk back in her seat. "This is dangerous. What if… what if the people at this community can't be trusted?"

"Don't worry, if they're trouble we'll be ready," Sasha said from the front seat. "We're gonna get you the meds you need."

"We got ya back," Daryl grumbled from the driver's seat.

Michonne smiled and felt overwhelmed with emotion. She was moved by the dedication these people had for her. A few months ago she didn't even know them. She certainly didn't know Rick. And now they were family.

She looked over at Rick who was stroking her hand gently.

"We'll get there," he said, nodding his head. "We'll get there."

***can08writer***

Michonne had managed to stay awake for much of the car ride that day, but she drifted off to sleep as the sun began to set.

When it got too dark for them to continue driving they stopped on the side of the road and Daryl and Sasha built a fire to cook dinner. Rick and Maggie took on the task of changing Michonne's bandages.

"Michonne," Rick called, brushing her locs from her face. His fingers touched her forehead and he was shocked by the heat coming off of her.

"Shit, she's burning up," he said to Maggie. Maggie joined Rick and felt Michonne's neck, feeling the moisture that was collecting on her skin.

"We need to uncover her so she can cool down. We're also gonna have to clean the wound out again," Maggie said, taking control of the situation and peeling the sleeping bag away from Michonne's body. Maggie checked Michonne's pulse as Rick lovingly stroked Michonne's cheek. He noticed that her skin looked dull with a hint of gray to it, and his fear for her increased.

"Michonne," he said, shaking her gently. She let out a small groan and her eyes fluttered. "We're gonna have to clean out your wound and change your bandage now, okay? It's gonna hurt, but we'll try to be fast."

Michonne showed no sign of hearing what he said. Maggie rolled Michonne's shirt up to expose the pressure bandage that was wrapped around her abdomen. She had made it tight to slow down the flow of blood from the wound and it had worked somewhat. Although the blood was no longer gushing out, every time the bandage was changed it was soaked through, and now was no exception.

Rick paused for a moment to take in the soiled bandage. His eyes flicked to Michonne's face which was peaceful in its stillness.

"Okay, let's do this fast," Maggie said. She carefully unraveled the knot that was tied to keep pressure on the wound, and Michonne's brow began to scrunch as her body sensed the pain. Rick and Maggie began to peel the wrapping off layer by layer, the still-wet blood staining their hands red. Michonne began to breathe harder and she rolled her head slightly.

"Okay, here we go," Rick said, trying to prepare Michonne as well as himself. He peeled back the last rag and exposed her open wound. Maggie grabbed the small piece of fabric that she'd stuffed inside and began to yank when Michonne's eyes flipped open in surprise. Adrenaline flooded her body and she shot upright with a yell.

"Woah, woah," Maggie called, placing her hand on Michonne's shoulders to keep her from bolting. Daryl and Sasha were immediately on guard, ready to handle any walkers that were attracted by the noise.

"What are you doing?" Michonne gasped weakly, sweat breaking out on her forehead. She panted for breath with her eyes wild.

"It's alright, you're alright," Rick said to her, trying to calm her down. "You're okay, look at me."

Rick moved his head close to Michonne's until his eyes were staring into hers. "You're okay. We were just changing your bandage. Everything is alright."

Michonne calmed down slowly, although her heart was still beating wildly. "It hurts."

"Oh I know baby. But we have to put the new bandages on you now."

Michonne sighed and forced her body to relax. "I know. It's okay."

Maggie passed a new set of rags to Rick, and took the blood soaked ones to be boiled in water. They only had two sets so they had to be washed alternately.

"Okay, I'm gonna have to stuff this in…" Rick began.

"I know. Just do it. Do it fast," Michonne huffed, holding her breath in anticipation. Rick folded a small piece of rag and without warning shoved it into the wound in Michonne side.

"Mmmmmmmm!" Michonne cried out as her head tilted back and she grabbed the van's back seat.

"Okay. Worst part is over," Rick said with a sigh. "Just gotta wrap it now. Alright?"

"Is this payback for me taking that bullet out of your leg?" Michonne asked, and Rick chortled.

"How can you joke right now?" he asked as he prepared the bandage.

"It stops me from screaming," Michonne said.

"I know. I'm sorry," he apologized. He placed one end of the bandage under Michonne's back, and she had to sit up a bit so he could wrap it around her middle multiple times. With each wrap the bandage got tighter and hurt even more.

Michonne breathed through the pain, and she tried blowing her exhales out in long breaths to calm herself.

"Almost done," Rick said as he wrapped the final rag around her waist and tied it tightly enough to staunch some of the blood still seeping from the wound.

"Okay, you can lay back now," Rick directed, as he helped her relax into the van's back seat once again.

He brought a bottle of water to her dry lips. He could tell the blood loss, fever, and infection was dehydrating her.

Michonne took a small sip and immediately began to cough. The violent contractions of her abdomen brought more pain, and the coughing seemed to tire her exhausted body even more.

"If you want to go to sleep again it's okay," Rick said when she stopped coughing.

Michonne took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She felt weak and tired, and she was in so much pain that sleep would be more than welcome, but there was something she had to get off her chest first.

"Rick, there's something I want to say to you in case… in case I get to a state where I… I can't say this."

"Michonne…"

"Please, let me finish. I want to thank you for everything you've given me in the past few months. A purpose, a family, love…"

She took a shaky breath and she winced in pain. "Everything that we've been through has been worth it. I am so glad to have met you. I'm glad you snapped me out of the living death I was in. If we get to that community and they can't help me, or… or they don't even exist… I just want you to know that. I love you. I love Carl. I love Judith. I never thought I'd love anyone in this world." A tear escaped from one of Michonne's eyes, and Rick quickly swiped his thumb across her cheek, wiping it away. He then leaned down and pressed a kiss to the spot the tear had been.

"Why does this feel like you're saying goodbye?" Rick asked. "This… a little infection… is not what takes you down, you hear me? We're going to have a long, healthy life together, saving each other's asses. I'm alive because of you and I'm going to use every second I have on this earth to keep you alive. You had faith that Washington was where we needed to be, and I still have that faith. I have faith in us."

Another tear flowed down Michonne's cheek. "I'm sorry about the whole mess with Jocelyn…"

"Michonne," Rick said, interrupting her. "That was not your fault. Some people just can't be helped. You couldn't have predicted how she turned out. Maybe even she didn't know how things would play out. But if what Enid says is true, finding this community may be just what we need. It might be that safe place that we were looking to find. It may be a place where we can rest, where Judith and Carl and Gracie can grow. We have to try."

Michonne nodded and placed her palm against Rick's cheek.

"You just have to hang on. Get as much rest as you can so you can fight this. Okay? I'll be right here. All night," Rick said.

Michonne felt drained, despite the fact that she'd slept the majority of the day. She nodded in agreement, and Rick pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and then a longer, lingering kiss to her forehead.

As soon as she closed her eyes she was asleep.

The next time she opened her eyes she could hear people speaking frantically all around her. Their voices were muffled at first, but within a few seconds she could recognize Maggie and Rick speaking near her ear, and Sasha's voice coming from somewhere else.

"Her eyes are opening," she could hear Maggie say.

Michonne could tell she was still in the van and it was moving quickly down the road. Every bump and pothole sent pain through her entire abdomen. It was almost unbearable and she grimaced and let out a moan.

"Hey sleepy head," Rick said.

Michonne felt wet everywhere, like she'd just got out of the shower. She noticed the sleeping bag she'd previously been wrapped up in had been removed, and Maggie was leaning over her, fanning her face. Her shirt had been removed, and she was in her bra and jeans, with the bandages around her abdomen in plain sight. She was startled by their dark red color.

"Why am I wet?" Michonne asked, her moist skin was sticking to the seat underneath her.

"Your fever is very high," Rick said. "That's sweat."

A chill went down Michonne's spine. She tried to raise her hand to feel her own forehead and realized she was too weak to move her body in any way, and when she tried the pain was excruciating.

"Where are we?"

"We should be at this community in a few hours. Just a few more hours. Hang on baby."

Goosebumps rose on Michonne's skin as the cool air in the van met her sweaty body.

"I'm cold."

"I know you are, but we don't want your body temperature to go up any higher. It's from your fever," he said, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe sweat from her brow.

She shuddered again and could feel a bead of sweat slide down the side of her neck. Her lips were dry and she attempted to lick them.

"Here, take a drink..." Rick said. He lifted her head and poured some water into her mouth. She took a gulp and nodded gratefully. She was feeling light headed, and so very cold. She leaned her head back against the seat and could feel herself slowly drifting away.

"Michonne?" Maggie's voice echoed.

She tried to tell her she was still here, but realized she couldn't speak.

"Shit. I think she passed out," she heard Rick's voice say. She could feel fingers on her neck, checking her pulse, but even the touch felt weird, like she was feeling a touch through someone else's body. Her brain got more and more foggy, and she knew she was fading into unconsciousness again. The last thing she heard was Daryl, his voice sounding like an echo from another room.

"Rick! Incoming!"

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, thank you for your reviews, and I hope you're all safe and healthy. I think this story will only have 2 or 3 more chapters before it's complete. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	20. Chapter 20

Daryl slammed on the brakes as a group of 30 walkers came into view, blocking the road. They were clustered around something, and it took Rick a few seconds to realize it was a car. The walkers were surrounding it so thoroughly it was hard to tell. The van stopped far enough away that they'd only caught the attention of a few of the walkers, who slowly meandered towards them.

"Can we get around them?" Sasha asked, leaning closer to the windshield and squinting her eyes to assess the situation.

"It could be a trap," Maggie said. "It's kinda suspicious there's a car in the middle of the road that these walkers are so interested in."

"I don't like it," Rick said, shaking his head. "There's definitely something in there attracting those walkers."

Sasha unfolded the map they'd been following and studied it. "We could go back a few miles and take a different road, but this route is the fastest. Going around might add another hour to the trip, plus we don't know what else we'll run into. The community is not that far away from here."

Rick turned and looked down at Michonne who was lying motionless in the back seat. Sweat covered her body, soaking through her bra and jeans. Her lips were shaking slightly, chattering as she shivered. His heart sank when he saw the blood soaked rags wrapped around her middle. He knew she was holding on for dear life, but she couldn't last much longer like this.

Daryl was studying Rick's face through the rear view mirror. He observed him watching Michonne.

"We can do this," Daryl said. "Thirty walkers ain't nothing. We draw them to us, take 'em out one by one. We got this."

Rick met Daryl's eyes and he gave him a grateful nod. "Okay, we draw them this way little by little. Let's try not to make too much noise and let them notice us on their own."

As quietly as possible, Sasha, Daryl, Maggie, and Rick got out of the van, leaving Michonne inside. Five walkers made their way over to them and they were quickly dispatched by the group. A few more stragglers made their way towards them, and they waited patiently for the walkers to get close enough to be stabbed with knives. Besides the couple walkers who wandered towards them, the majority of them continued banging and scratching at the car.

"We're gonna have to call them over," Maggie declared.

"Okay, we stay in a line formation. Don't let them get behind us. We have each other's backs," Rick ordered. They made a straight line, leaving some space between them so they could swing their knives without hitting each other. Daryl then leaned down and loudly banged his knife against the blacktop.

The sound wasn't as loud as he expected, but it caught the attention of a few more walkers, which drew others towards them. Working together, they took out ten more walkers, leaving a handful more that were still clawing at the car.

Slowly they approached the vehicle, and as they got closer they finally drew the remaining walkers to them and dispatched them without a fuss. Rick and Daryl approached the car with their guns drawn, as Sasha and Maggie hung back, protecting their rear. They still suspected this could be a trap.

The windows on the car had been mucked up by the walkers clawing at it, but they could see movement inside, possibly the heads of people or walkers.

"Get ready," Rick hissed to Daryl. Seconds later the driver side door popped open slowly.

"Freeze!" Rick yelled, his law enforcement training kicking in instantly. The driver froze and the door didn't open any further.

"Driver, put your hands on the window," Rick commanded. Rick could see two hands pressed against the inside of the dirty window. Meanwhile, Daryl approached the passenger side where another person also pressed their hands against the car window.

"How many of you are in the car?" Rick asked.

"Two. There's two of us," a man's voice answered.

"Get out. Slowly. If you reach for something I'll shoot you," Rick said, backing up slightly and using the car's trunk as a barrier between himself and the driver.

The driver pushed the door open further and stepped out of the car with his hands in the air, followed by the passenger. Rick studied both men, visibly inspecting their waist and pockets for weapons.

"Both of you, put your hands on the roof of the car," Rick demanded.

The men did as he asked, and Rick and Daryl checked them for weapons, taking guns and knives from them. Rick tucked the man's gun into the back of his gun belt, and his knife into his own pocket.

"Thank you," the driver said, once Rick took a step back. "We… we were trapped in that car for an hour before you took care of the dead. We got a flat. I was trying to change the tire when that swarm showed up."

"Shut up," Rick said, his eyes flicking left and right, keeping an eye out for people hiding in the woods. "How many are you?"

"Just the two of us," the man replied. "But I… I have good news. My name is Aaron, this is Eric. It's nice to meet you," he said, taking a step forward with his hand outstretched.

Maggie and Sasha cocked their weapons, and Rick aimed his gun at the man's head.

The other man, Eric, looked from Daryl to Aaron nervously.

"Not everyone would've done what you did. Stop to help people in need."

"Your car and the walkers were blocking the road," Rick said nonchalantly, "we need to get through."

"Still, you haven't shot us yet."

"Yet," Rick commented.

"We come from a larger community, and we're out here looking for people like you. Good people, who know how to handle yourselves out here. If you're willing, I'd like you and your group to come back with us and talk to our leader about auditioning for membership."

"Auditioning?" Sasha asked.

"An interview. Our leader would like to talk to you, if you're willing."

Rick's eyes narrowed. "Where's your camp?"

"It's not a camp. It's a community. And I think you'd all make valuable additions. But it's not my call. My job is to convince you all to follow me back home."

"So you set up a trap in the road and convince people to come back to your camp if they get you out of it?" Daryl asked.

"No. We… we didn't set that up," Eric said, gesturing to the back tire of their car that was being held up on a jack. "See? Look for yourself. Our tire is flat."

"Doesn't take much to put a flat in a tire," Maggie argued.

"Where's your camp?" Rick asked again, his hard stare getting more intense.

"I don't feel comfortable telling you that. But we can take you there, if you'll follow us in your car. Uh… or maybe we'll have to ride with you…"

"We're not going anywhere with you if we don't know where we're going," Rick said calmly, his icy blue eyes boring holes into Aaron's.

Eric looked over at the other man. "We don't have much of a choice Aaron, it's not like we can drive them back ourselves."

Aaron looked at Eric and then nodded. "It's ten miles North, up this road. It's called the Alexandria Safe Zone."

Daryl shot a glance at Rick. "Ain't that where we were goin'?"

Rick squinted at Aaron. "Do you have a doctor there?"

***can08writer***

Aaron and Eric piled into the already crowded van. They were shocked at the sight of Michonne, unconscious in the back seat.

"Was that a bite?" Eric asked.

"A knife," Maggie answered, as she wiped sweat from Michonne's brow. Rick sat next to the two men with his gun aimed at them.

"I… I have two Tylenols," Aaron revealed. "It's in my bag, the inner pocket. I take some with me whenever I go scouting, you never know who'll need it. It's a fever reducer."

Rick dug through Aaron's bag, brushing past a flare gun, a jar of applesauce, and a stack of pictures, before he found the Tylenol wrapped in a piece of fabric. Rick studied the pills, making sure they looked okay before passing it to Maggie. Maggie gently lifted Michonne's head, and she stirred slightly, the heat from her body warming Maggie's hand.

"Michonne, we have some meds for you. I need you to swallow these, okay?"

Maggie pressed the pills into Michonne's mouth and then held the bottle of water to Michonne's lips. She was sure Michonne wasn't fully conscious because she didn't open her eyes, but she did drink and swallow the pills.

"There you go," Maggie said, laying her head back down. Rick glanced over at his girlfriend, grateful that she at least had some medicine in her finally. He pulled the stack of pictures from the bag and flipped through them, observing solar panels, a large steel wall, and houses. He immediately thought that if they had to, they could climb up the wooden supports on the wall and get out of there.

"How many people are in this community?" Rick asked.

"Around 60," Aaron answered. "The walls went up early on. They've managed to protect us so far."

"Why do you go out looking for people?"

"Because when people join us we get stronger. We need people like you. People who know what it's like to live out here. People are the most important resource in the world right now."

The car got quiet and Rick stared at Aaron unashamedly for a long time. Eric and Aaron shot each other concerned looks, unsure about what was going to happen next.

"Rick, we're coming up on Duke road, this should lead up to their community," Daryl announced.

"Pull over," Rick demanded. Daryl pulled the van off the road and Aaron and Eric's eyes got wide, obviously nervous about Rick's intentions.

"I need a minute," Rick said, stepping out the van. He glanced back at a sleeping Michonne before he walked off into the woods. When he got far enough, he began to dig with his hands, creating a deep hole in the soft dirt. He removed a handgun he had in his sock, as well as his machete, and buried it in the dirt. He then returned to the car.

"Let's go."

***can08writer***

The group rode up to the front gates of the community and Rick observed their high steel walls, just like the pictures Aaron had shown him. Rick's heart was beating quickly. He didn't like rolling up to the front gates. He preferred to observe them for a while and figure out their defenses and weaknesses. Maybe even try to sneak in like they'd planned at Terminus. But he didn't have time. Michonne was getting worse with every passing hour and he wanted her to be treated as quickly as possible. They just had to take the risk.

They got out of the van with their weapons drawn, and Rick stood behind Aaron and Eric, ready to take them hostage if he had to. They heard a click as the large rolling gates unlocked and then began to roll backwards.

A man with curly hair and a gun slung across his shoulder stared at them through the second set of gates that had bars. His eyes rolled across the small group's dirty clothes, unkempt hair, and the wounds that still scarred their faces and arms. What scared him the most was the intense stare given by the man who had to be their leader. He resembled a wolf that was checking for weakness before it pounced.

"Nicholas, open the gate," Aaron said. "It's okay, they have someone who's hurt."

Nicholas hesitated for another second before pulling back the second gate. Rick holstered his weapon, and opened the van's back door.

"Michonne," he whispered. This time her eyes fluttered open and he let out a relieved breath. "We're here. We're gonna get you help now."

She squinted and looked around. "Where?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

"The Alexandria Safe Zone. Can you sit up?"

She tried to sit up in the chair but the pain was too much, and moving made her dizzy.

"Alright, I'm gonna carry you. Lifting you might hurt, but we gotta get you to their doctor. Okay?" he asked.

Michonne nodded. Rick placed one arm under her legs and the other under her back and lifted her into his arms. Michonne let out a muffled scream as her abdomen had to bend in order for him to carry her.

"I know, I'm sorry," Rick whispered in her ear as he followed behind Aaron to the infirmary. Daryl, Sasha, and Maggie had their weapons in their hands, and flanked Rick and Michonne like secret service agents.

Rick's eyes scanned the community. There were huge houses, neatly maintained lawns, a large community lake, and a cul de sac. People were walking through the streets dressed almost like before. Women in sundresses, men in jeans, children playing tag, one with a dog on a leash, and none of them were visibly armed. It was like walking into the twilight zone.

They stared at Rick in fear, some running to the doors of their houses, ready to duck inside at the first sign of trouble. Michonne was still wearing only her bra and jeans, blood soaking through her bandage, and nearly delirious, and these people were acting like it was a Sunday picnic at the park. The posse of armed backup further enforced Rick as someone to fear.

Michonne tried to keep her eyes open as they moved through the streets, but the world began to spin. Her head gently slumped against Rick's chest.

"Michonne," he called, shaking her a little to rouse her, but she didn't respond.

"The infirmary is right here," Aaron said, leading them to a house and holding the door open as Rick cautiously stepped inside with Daryl, Sasha, and Maggie at his heels. A man sitting on an exam bed looked up startled when Rick came in carrying Michonne. Rick scanned the whole room for threats before gently placing Michonne down on one of the exam beds. He noticed the sheets were amazingly clean, and it made their own dirtiness stand out like a sore thumb.

"Pete?" Aaron called.

Rick heard footsteps from the other room, and finally a man stood in the doorway, a confused look on his face.

"What? Who is this?" Pete asked, staring at Michonne's limp body. "Who… who are you?" he asked, glancing questioningly at Rick, Daryl, Sasha and Maggie.

"New people. This woman's been stabbed," Aaron spoke up. "Take care of her, I have to let Deanna know we have new people. I'll be right back." And with those words Aaron turned and left the room.

"She was stabbed three days ago," Rick said, simultaneously untying the dirty pressure bandage wrapped around Michonne. "She's lost a lot of blood. She's been in and out of consciousness, and she has a high fever," he explained, expecting the doctor to start working on her immediately. He wanted to provide as much helpful information as he could. "The knife was about six inches long, it went all the way in. Maggie thinks it's sepsis."

Rick was startled when he looked up and Pete was standing in the same spot he was when he entered the room.

"Is she even still alive?" Pete asked, not moving a muscle towards Michonne. His forehead furrowed in an expression of annoyance. "By the looks of it, she isn't long for this world. She's a lost cause. Now, if the rest of you need any medical assis-"

A rage fired up inside Rick like someone kicked a can of gasoline into a bonfire. With no warning or time to escape, Rick grabbed Pete by the neck with his left hand, and drew his colt with his right, pressing the barrel against Pete's forehead.

Pete's mouth dropped in disbelief, and his eyes widened in fear. Instinctively he put his hands up.

Daryl was caught off guard by Rick's move as well, but always ready to back up his brother, he aimed his crossbow at the man sitting on the exam bed, who immediately put his hands in the air. Daryl was fairly certain these people didn't have weapons, but if they did, they didn't even reach for them.

"You're gonna treat her," Rick said calmly.

"Please. I… I have a family. A wife. Kids..."

"You're gonna treat her," Rick repeated. "Pretend she's your wife. Your child. 'Cuz if _she_ dies, _you_ die." Rick's cold blue eyes cut through Pete, and Pete knew he was serious.

Pete nodded quickly, and Rick lowered his gun enough to let the man have access to Michonne. He shakily removed a stethoscope from around his neck, and pressed it to Michonne's chest. He paused for a moment, listening, and then moved the stethoscope to another spot on Michonne's chest.

Rick held his breath as Pete examined her. Her lips were a pale pink and her skin had become even more of an ashen gray. She really did look dead.

"There's a weak heartbeat," Pete announced. "But I… I don't think she'll make it. And I…"

"Remember what I told you," Rick interrupted, staring Pete down. "You're gonna want her to live through this."

Pete nodded again and looked like he was about to vomit. "I… I can't do surgery on her when she's in this state. She'd never survive. She uh… she has to have some fluids and antibiotics first." Pete moved to a medical cabinet and started pulling out items.

"Get those dirty clothes off of her, we have to keep everything as sterile as possible," Pete ordered.

Rick looked down at the dirt, sweat, and blood soiled clothes covering Michonne. At this point, even a good wash couldn't save them. He reached over and grabbed a scissor from a nearby table and began to cut them off.

Sasha removed Michonne's shoes, socks, and pants, while Rick removed the dirty rags they'd wrapped around her wound. When the wound was exposed, Rick's stomach clenched at how deep the knife had gone into Michonne. He could see past her skin, inside her body. The pressure bandage had helped though, she was no longer bleeding as much. But maybe it was because she had lost so much blood already that there wasn't much more to bleed.

Pete returned with a bag of fluid and set up an IV, checking Michonne's pulse again. He turned around to Daryl who was still brandishing his crossbow at the other Alexandrian who was sitting on the exam bed.

"Hey you, get a thermometer from that drawer over there," Pete shouted at Daryl. Daryl glanced at Rick, and Rick nodded at him.

Lowering his weapon, Daryl opened the drawer, and as soon as he turned his back the Alexandrian ran out of the room.

"He's going to tell Deanna, you know," Pete spoke as he rubbed alcohol on Michonne's arm.

"Who's Deanna?" Sasha asked, removing one of Michonne's gloves while Maggie removed the other.

"She's in charge here, and she won't take it lightly that you threatened the only doctor this community has," Pete muttered as he angrily plunged the needle into Michonne's arm with pressure that Rick thought was unnecessary. Although Michonne didn't flinch, Rick did, and he growled savagely at Pete.

"I told you to treat her like she's one of yours. You give her a needle like that again, and I push it in you twice as hard."

Pete nodded again, and took the thermometer from Daryl, gently placing it in Michonne's mouth.

"Hold it under her tongue," Pete commanded Rick, while he finished with the IV, and fluid slowly began dripping into Michonne's arm.

A few seconds later the thermometer beeped. "104.5" Pete announced. "She definitely has a bad infection brewing in there. We need to cool her down if we're gonna do surgery. I need to place wet towels on her."

Just then, the door to the infirmary opened, and Daryl aimed his crossbow while Sasha hefted up her rifle, ready to protect everyone in the room.

A small, middle-aged woman, not much taller than five feet entered the room with her hands up. The Alexandrian who had run out the door, as well as Aaron, entered cautiously behind her.

Her blue eyes scanned Daryl who was still pointing his weapon, then Maggie who was beside Michonne's bed, Sasha who was aiming her weapon at them, then Pete who was looking at her pleadingly, and then Rick, who had put his weapon back in its holster, but she could tell from his eyes he was just as dangerous without it. He'd placed himself between her and the woman on the bed in a protective gesture that Deanna recognized. Deanna instantly knew the injured woman was special to him, and his threats to Pete were an attempt to save her.

Deanna took a breath and tried her best to project calm, commanding energy. She took another step into the room, despite Daryl's crossbow.

"Hello, I'm Deanna Monroe," she said with a small smile.

Rick stared at the short woman, his hand gripping the top of his weapon, but he didn't respond.

She looked over at Daryl who was still pointing the crossbow.

"There's no need for that in here," she said, nodding at the weapon. Her eyes swept to Sasha. "No one is going to hurt you. And we don't want you to hurt us. Right?"

Daryl glanced at Rick, and Rick nodded, allowing Daryl and Sasha to lower their weapons. Immediately Deanna learned who was in charge here.

She took another step forward. "I see this woman is hurt. Did you come here just to get help for her? Or are you interested in joining us?"

Rick's eyes narrowed. "We don't know yet. Right now, I just want to get her help."

Deanna nodded, glad that he was communicating.

"Aaron told me that you saved his and Eric's lives. We're grateful for that. And in return we can help your friend, but you cannot walk around our community with those," she stated, eyeing Rick's gun.

"We're not walking around," Rick stated. "We'll stay right here until she's better."

"Even so, you've threatened our doctor, our townspeople, and myself with those weapons. We cannot let you stay here if you refuse to give them up."

"Come and get 'em," Daryl threatened, lifting his crossbow once again.

Deanna flinched slightly, but her eyes returned to Rick.

"That's all we're asking from you right now, in exchange for Pete treating your friend. It's a more than generous offer, and your weapons will be returned to you at the gate if you should want to leave."

Rick glanced back at Michonne who was breathing so shallowly he couldn't tell her chest was moving. She needed to be here, help was here, and giving up his weapons was the price he'd gladly pay.

He pulled his weapon from its holster and Deanna flinched again. These people were scary. The wild look in their eyes, their dirty clothes, their tenseness that made one believe the smallest insult would result in ones head being blown off. She could see they were traumatized in the worst way, but she could also see their goodness. She could see how much the man in charge was concerned about the woman in the bed. He could see how the other man would die to protect the three women and the leader. The four of them were a force to be reckoned with, and just what Deanna was looking to add to her community.

Rick turned his weapon so it was facing himself, and handed it to Deanna, handle first. Daryl watched Rick give up his weapon and then reluctantly handed over his crossbow. Sasha, who was silent the entire time, walked to Deanna and handed her her own rifle, and Maggie gave in her handgun, but Rick was aware that they all carried knives in their pants.

"Thank you," Deanna said with a smile. "Thank you for your trust. These are still your weapons, and you can get them back when you leave our gates. Now, Pete will take good care of your friend, and do whatever he can to help her. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't threaten him."

"It wasn't a threat," Rick stated. "I don't say things I don't mean."

Pete's eyes widened and he turned to say something back, but Rick's eyes on him silenced him.

"What's your name?" Deanna asked Rick calmly.

"Rick."

Deanna approached Rick slowly and came up close, almost squaring up with him. Although the woman barely came up to his chest, he had to admit her presence and fearlessness was admirable.

"Well Rick, you're not out there anymore. You're in Alexandria, and you're safe now. And inside these gates we don't threaten people. It may have gotten you what you wanted out there, but it won't in here. Understood?"

Rick studied Deanna's face slightly before nodding in agreement.

Finally, Deanna addressed Pete.

"Pete are you alright in here?" she asked. "Is there anything you need?"

"No I'm okay, as long as we're all on the same page," he said, his comment directed to Rick and Daryl. "I have to wait at least until the IV is done before I do surgery. Maybe that will bring her fever down more as well. That'll be at least another hour."

"Good," Deanna said with a nod. "Rick, I'd like to talk to you in my study."

"No," Rick said. "I'm not leaving her."

"It's okay Rick," Sasha said, finally speaking up. "Daryl, Maggie, and I will stay here with her. We'll be here the whole time. If Pete's ready to do surgery and you're not back I'll send Daryl to get you."

Rick hesitated and looked down at Michonne.

"We've got her," Maggie said softly.

Rick nodded and allowed his fingers to trace down Michonne's arm to her fingertips. He squeezed her hand once, and then leaned down and placed a kiss to her forehead. Looking as if he had to fight against an invisible force field to move away, Rick reluctantly followed Deanna out of the infirmary.

After speaking to Deanna for 45 minutes, Rick returned to find Maggie, Sasha, and Daryl hovering around Michonne while what was left of the IV slowly dripped into her arm. She had wet towels wrapped around her body.

"How is she?" Rick asked, studying her face. "Did she wake up? Is she improving?"

"She didn't wake up, but Pete said her temperature has dropped a few degrees. He's preparing the surgery room. Daryl was just about to go get you," Maggie explained.

Rick leaned over Michonne as she lay motionless in the bed. He'd never seen her this vulnerable, this helpless before. He lifted her right hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. He put her hand down and caressed her cheek with his thumb. It was still so warm.

"I'm here," he said in her ear. "I know you can hear me. I'm right here, and there's a doctor that's going to make you better. Just hold on sweetheart."

Pete entered the room with a heavyset woman with blonde hair whose eyes darted around nervously.

"You're back," Pete stated, with no affection in his voice.

"What exactly are you gonna do to her?" Rick asked.

"Flush out the area. Drain it, and stitch what needs stitching," Pete said nonchalantly.

"Is this a risky procedure?" Rick asked.

"In her condition? Yes," Pete said bluntly. "She's been bleeding for 3 days, she's low on blood. She really needs a transfusion but we can't do that here. She's septic, in shock, and unconscious."

Rick's eyes narrowed and he gave Pete his deepest stare. Without blinking he growled, "I have faith in you."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between the men until Pete cleared his throat. "Denise, roll her into the surgery room."

The blond woman moved cautiously past Rick and pushed Michonne's bed towards the next room. Rick followed closely behind her.

"You can't go in there," Pete said.

"I'm going," Rick growled.

"I'm not going to be able to concentrate with you in that room."

"I'm not leaving her alone with you. I don't know you."

"Look. If you want me to save her life, you're gonna sit on that couch right there and wait for me to finish surgery. I won't start unless you're out here, and she'll suffer because of it. If you want her to live, sit down. Now!" Pete snapped.

Denise began to shake, and her eyes were wide as saucers. Daryl's muscles tensed, ready to throw down for Rick and Michonne. Rick's fists clenched but he stopped himself. He'd traveled all this way to get help for Michonne. Unfortunately this man was her only help. He had to play nice, at least until she didn't need medical help anymore. He would do it for Michonne.

Rick cracked his neck to the right, and walked over to the couch. He then slowly lowered himself onto it.

"What did Deanna say?" Maggie asked after they sat quietly for a few minutes.

"She offered to let us stay here. If we wanted," Rick grumbled, trying his hardest to focus on the conversation instead of what was happening to Michonne in the next room.

"What's the catch?" Sasha asked.

"She said we'd have to work for our stay. She said everyone here has jobs, but she didn't elaborate on that."

"Did you tell her about the others?" Maggie asked.

"I told her we were part of a larger group, but that was it. She said everyone would have to be interviewed before getting a job, and our firearms have to stay in their armory unless we were leaving the gates."

"So they got an armory," Daryl said, moving to a window to scope out what was happening outside. "We can check that out, see what there is to see."

"Yea, we can. Deanna said we're free to explore and see if we wanna stay. But these people, they're too trusting. Too open."

"You think something's up?" Sasha asked.

"Either they're manipulating us, or they're unbelievably naive. None of them have weapons from what I can see. They have kids running around in the streets. Some of them look like they haven't missed a meal. I don't trust them, but if something goes down I think we can take 'em."

"Aaron and Eric seemed okay."

"Aaron and Eric don't know us," Rick said, playing with the watch on his wrist. "We need to keep our guard up. Things can't be this easy."

"We're gonna have to go back, tell the rest of the group what's going on. You want them to come here or stay at the barn?"

Rick cracked his knuckles and stood, pacing slowly as he thought.

"I don't trust these people, there's something weird about them. But it's safer in here than it is out there. The babies, they need somewhere safe. And no matter what happens, we're always stronger together than we are apart. I want you to bring them here, at least until I figure out if we want to stay."

"I'll drive back and get everyone tomorrow," Daryl said with a nod.

"I'll go with," Maggie added.

"And I'll stay here with you, Rick," Sasha stated.

Rick nodded, glad that everything was settled. For now, Alexandria would be the next stop on their journey. If these people were as genuine as they seemed it could even be their new home. And if they weren't, he and his group knew how to handle themselves.

The group of four sat right outside of the surgery room door for an hour, waiting on word about Michonne. During that time, a messenger from Deanna asked if anyone else would like to do their interview while they waited, and Maggie volunteered. She was eager to talk to the woman in charge of all this and get her own take on her.

Finally, the surgery room door cracked open, and Denise stuck her head out. Rick jumped to his feet, and Denise flinched in fear.

"She's out of surgery now. She's still unconscious, but she can have one visitor."

Rick headed for the door and Denise quickly scooted out of his way as he made a beeline for the bed that Michonne was laying in. She had an IV in her arm, and new clean bandages wrapped around her waist. She was even grayer than she'd been when she was brought in, and her breathing was still shallow. Rick took one of her hands and it was ice cold, even though the rest of her body was unusually warm.

Pete was by a sink, washing his hands. "So, I was able to stop her bleeding, clean the wound, and sew it together. There was considerable damage, and there are going to be lasting side effects of that injury, but what I did saved her life."

Pete paused for a moment as if he expected Rick to say something. Maybe thank him for saving Michonne, but Rick continuously stroked Michonne's hand as he stared down at her.

Pete cleared his throat. "The positive from all of this is the knife wound completely missed her uterus. The bleeding was excessive, and I can't tell you that she'll keep the pregnancy, but it'll just be a wait and see."

Rick's head jerked up and he stared at Pete, totally lost as to what he was talking about. He thought that maybe Pete had lost his mind and was talking about another patient.

When Pete saw the lost look on Rick's face he let out a sigh.

"You didn't know?"

Rick glanced down at Michonne who seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. He glanced over her flat abdomen, covered by the sheets.

"She's pregnant?" Rick asked, his glare immediately softening.

Pete noticed the change in Rick's demeanor.

"It's very early, I'd guess around 2 months. I noticed it when I was doing an ultrasound of her abdomen, looking for internal injuries."

Rick placed his hand on Michonne's cheek, slowly stroking her face.

"And the baby, it's healthy?"

Pete nodded. "Like I said, the bloodloss could cause a miscarriage. But as of right now, it's alive. Hey, do you wanna hear the heartbeat?"

Rick's eyes searched Michonne's body but he nodded slightly, and Pete turned to get the sonogram machine.

_She's pregnant. Michonne's pregnant. With my baby. She's carrying my baby._

Thoughts swirled in Rick's head as Pete returned with the machine. He reached to pull down the part of the sheet covering Michonne's chest, when Rick snatched the man's hand, mostly out of reflex.

Pete was shocked and let out a nervous chuckle.

"I'll… I'll let you do it then," he said quickly.

Rick carefully pulled the sheet away from the middle of Michonne's body, revealing her abdomen, but keeping her chest and legs covered. Her stomach and the tops of her panties were the only real skin Pete had access to.

Pete squeezed gel on to the probe and then paused as it hovered over Michonne.

"May I?" he asked Rick.

Rick nodded shortly, and Pete pressed the probe underneath Michonne's belly button, moving it back and forth as black and white lines moved across the ultrasound screen.

When he found what he was looking for, he pressed a button on the machine and it took a picture, freezing the image of a while blob in the middle of a black cavern.

"That's the fetus," Pete said.

Rick barely blinked as he took in every detail of the screen.

Pete clicked another button, and a steady heartbeat played through the speakers.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

"That's…" Rick began. He held Michonne's hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. "That's our baby."

He wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or Michonne. A tear tumbled from his eye, startling Pete who didn't expect that type of emotion from such a scary man.

"I wish I could print the picture out for you, but we don't have any more paper for the machine."

"When will she be awake?" Rick asked.

"Maybe a couple hours. I gave her a light sedative when I was sewing her up, but the blood loss has also contributed to why she's staying unconscious for so long."

"How long until she recovers?"

"I would suggest she stay in the infirmary for at least three days. I have to keep tabs on the infection, and watch for more bleeding. But after that she still shouldn't be moving around for at least a week and a half. Any heavy lifting or long walking could cause those stitches to break. In other words she'll have to take it easy for a long while."

Rick nodded.

Pete stood by the sink for a few seconds, watching Rick stare absentmindedly at Michonne.

"Well, I'll be outside if I'm needed," Pete said, turning to walk out of the room.

Just before he stepped out the door, Rick muttered "Thank you."

Pete's eyes widened, but he nodded in acknowledgement and left.

When Rick was finally alone, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Michonne's warm forehead. Without warning he burst into tears. He cried sobbing, uncontrollable tears. He nuzzled his head into her neck and cried as a release of all the emotions he'd bottled up for the last few days.

On top of dealing with this new community, these new people, and a new leader, he was going to be a father again. In this world. He didn't know if he could handle any more children to watch out for.

What if they had to flee this community? What if they had to fight to get out of here, and go back out on the road with Michonne injured and now pregnant? What if she didn't want this baby? What if she was angry that he'd put them in this situation, where she had to give birth to this child with an uncertain future?

"I'm sorry," he gasped into her ear. "I'm sorry I was so careless. I'm sorry you're in this position now. If you didn't want this… I'm so sorry."

He rested his head on her chest and listened to her heart beat, and the air enter and leave her lungs. Everything was uncertain now, but one thing that he did know was that she was still alive.


	21. Chapter 21

Rick had never been a patient man. He used to hate long lines at the supermarket, traffic jams, and appointments that didn't start when they were supposed to. When it came to people he loved, he had even less tolerance for waiting for things that they needed. In his old life he'd use his privilege as a deputy to get around that unpleasantness. Now, he had no such privilege, and even if he had it wouldn't have worked because he was waiting for Michonne to wake up again. Something only she had control of.

She'd been sleeping now for hours, but it felt like days for Rick. Actually, it had been days that she was in and out of consciousness. He just wanted to know that she was okay.

His thoughts went to his child, living inside of her. She'd lost so much blood. Was the baby getting enough oxygen? Enough nutrients? She hadn't eaten for the past few days. Rick was worried for the both of them.

He alternated between standing at Michonne's bedside stroking her hair, and pacing her room.

Sasha came in to ask if he wanted some water. Maggie came in to ask if he wanted some food. Daryl came in and just stood guard by the door, offering his silence, but Rick couldn't eat, drink, or relax until he knew she was okay.

He waited by her bed all night, until the sun rose over the trees in the distance and began lighting up the sky. Denise appeared in the doorway.

"Excuse me. Pete asked me to take her temperature again, and get her blood pressure," the woman said nervously.

Rick looked up at her blankly, and moved two steps back in a daze.

Denise cautiously approached the bed, scooting past Rick who didn't realize or care that he was in the way.

Denise placed the thermometer in Michonne's mouth, and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. Rick watched her every movement as she handled Michonne, and he noticed her hands were shaking. He didn't know if it was from fear or something else, but he needed to find out.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked.

"Hmm?" the woman asked, startled that Rick had suddenly spoken.

"Are. You. A doctor?"

"Yes. I mean, I went to medical school. I was even going to be a surgeon but… that didn't work out. But… to answer your question, yes. I am a doctor. A… a psychiatrist actually. It's just been a while since I've been in on a surgery. Or seen someone as injured as she was. She… she was hurt really badly. And the blood... In med school I learned surgeries kind of freak me out," Denise rambled nervously.

"Hey. Do you know what you're doing?" Rick asked, his eyes narrowing.

Denise turned around and blinked at him. "I'm sorry. I know it seems like I don't know what I'm doing. I, uh… basically told you that. I admit I'm not used to doing all this, but I'm learning. Pete is teaching me. I know you're worried about her, but I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Or the baby. Trust me."

"I don't know you," Rick replied.

She reached out her hand for Rick to shake. "Denise Cloyd."

Rick hesitated. He didn't mean he didn't know her name, he meant he didn't know her intentions, and her motivation. He studied her hand, and then her eyes. Denise's heart thudded in her chest when she realized Rick was trying to figure her out. Despite her fear, she held her hand steady until Rick gripped it in a vise-like hold.

"Rick Grimes."

Denise nodded and turned back to Michonne, continuing to take her blood pressure. "The fact that she's still alive is a miracle. I noticed she's been shot in the arm too. She survived being shot and stabbed, I can tell she's strong. She's a survivor. I think she'll be okay. The baby too."

"Yea," Rick breathed out.

"I can't imagine what you people have been through. What you've all seen and experienced. It has to be… savage... out there. _I_ found this place by accident. I got lost and wound up here a few days after I had to leave my home. It was the luckiest thing that happened to me. You'll like it here if you decide to stay."

Rick said nothing and he watched Denise like a hawk as she examined Michonne. She removed the cuff from her arm and read the panel on it.

"Her blood pressure is lower than it should be, from the blood loss and dehydration, but it's higher than it was a few hours ago, which is a good sign."

The thermometer beeped and Denise removed it from her mouth.

"102. It's still high, but she's getting there. Little by little."

When Denise left to sterilize the thermometer, Rick quickly took her place, feeling Michonne's forehead for himself.

Daryl entered the room in standard tracker fashion, by simply appearing at the door.

"Rick. Maggie and I are gonna head back now. Aaron and Eric offered to follow us and bring an RV to transport everybody here."

"You ok with that?" Rick asked.

"Everyone can't fit in that van. At least not without sitting on laps for a day and a half."

"What do they want in return?" Rick asked, suspicious of why these people were so keen to help.

"Far as I know, nothing."

"Keep an eye on them. No matter what, Carl and Judith ride with you," Rick commanded.

"Got it," Daryl replied. "What do you want me to tell Carl about Michonne?"

"Tell him she's fighting. And send him over here as soon as you come back."

Daryl nodded, giving one last glance at Michonne before turning and leaving the infirmary with Maggie.

An hour after Daryl and Maggie left, Deanna returned to the infirmary with a basket of supplies and food.

"Hello Rick," she said, entering the room after she knocked lightly on the door frame. "How is she doing?"

"She's sleeping," he replied.

Deanna nodded and moved further into the room with her basket. "I brought some things I thought you might need. Some fruit and applesauce for breakfast, towels, a toothbrush, a bar of soap… just some odds and ends."

Rick turned his eyes to Deanna and studied her thoroughly. She held the basket out towards him with a small smile on her face, patiently waiting for him to take it from her. He had to admit this woman had nerves of steel. He knew he wasn't acting very amiable towards her, nor did he feel that way, and yet she still was trying to provide him with supplies.

He slowly reached over and took the basket from her, placing it on the floor near his chair.

"Thank you," he said.

"Not a problem Rick."

"What do you want in return?"

"Like I told you during your interview, your group is the type of people we need. Doing your job when you get it, that's how you pay us back."

"So what's my job?" he asked.

"You have a lot to deal with right now. When you're settled in, and she's doing better, that's when I'll talk to you about a job."

Rick looked back at Michonne and watched her chest rise and fall. He noticed her breathing had gotten better since Pete had administered the antibiotics. Stronger. He hoped it would only improve from here. During the night, he, Maggie, and Sasha had slid a hospital gown on to Michonne so she wasn't naked under the sheets, but the sight of her in that gown made her look even more vulnerable. He just wanted to see her eyes. He wanted to know that she was okay and understood where she was. And then, he knew he had to tell her about their baby.

Deanna watched Rick watching Michonne. The muscles in his shoulders and back were tightly clenched and he stared at Michonne, barely blinking.

"Is she your wife?" Deanna asked.

"No," Rick stated.

Deanna took his short answer as a sign that he didn't want to discuss it any further.

"I want to assign housing to your group when they arrive. How many people do you have?"

"Thirteen," Rick said.

"Thirteen people surviving together out there," Deanna said, shaking her head in amazement. "If we decide to take all of you, your group would be the largest we've ever brought in."

"_If_ you take us in?"

"Well like I said, everyone has to be interviewed before we make our decision. Even Michonne. When she's ready."

"And what happens if you decide not to take us in?"

"Aaron and Eric will escort you all out to where you were found and let you go on your way."

Rick's forehead furrowed. He hadn't seen much of this town as he'd spent his time in the room with Michonne, but if it was as prosperous as it seemed he knew he wasn't going to leave. Not even if Deanna decided they had to. And the fact that she believed Aaron and Eric "escorting" them away would get rid of them was laughable. Was that how they got rid of people who were a problem? These people were clueless.

Deanna studied Rick's face as he thought. She knew he was having a whole internal conversation.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing,"

"You don't like the way we do things?" Deanna asked, reading right through him.

Before he could stop himself he gave an honest answer. "I think you're naive."

"How so?" she inquired, crossing her arms.

"If you let people in, and don't have a plan for what to do with them if they don't work out, you're putting your people in danger. Escorting them out? I don't think so."

"Well how do you suppose we deal with people who aren't working here?" Deanna asked, leaning her body against the wall besides Rick.

"I dunno, but just escorting them away isn't going to work. Not when they know where you are, they know what you have, and they know how to get back."

Deanna looked at Rick and nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. That's why I need your input. You see things I don't, you have experiences that I don't. That's valuable."

Rick continued to look down at Michonne without responding to Deanna.

"I'll give you some privacy with her," Deanna said, motioning towards Michonne and taking a few steps back. "Maybe Sasha will be up for her interview now."

Deanna backed her way to the door and left.

***can08writer***

"Rick," a voice called softly.

Rick's head shot up quickly, and in full automatic mode his hand reached for his Colt which was no longer in its rightful home at his side. Startled even more that his gun was gone, he bolted to his feet and nearly tripped over the chair he'd been sitting on.

His eyes scanned the room, first checking Michonne who was still sleeping deeply, then shooting to the door where Sasha stood watching him with her arms crossed.

"Rick, you should go lay down," Sasha stated, studying his still panicked face.

"What… what is it? Is something wrong?" He asked, his heart still pounding from the rush of adrenaline that woke him up.

"No. Nothing's wrong," Sasha said, taking a few steps forward. "I just got back from my interview with Deanna."

"You talked to her?" Rick asked, dropping back into his chair.

"Yes. I told you I was leaving forty minutes ago. You don't remember our conversation?"

Rick rubbed his eyes. "No. Sorry. I've been kind of out of it."

Sasha made her way to the other side of Michonne's bed, studying the woman briefly before looking over at Rick.

"It's okay. I should've known. During the whole conversation you were staring past me like a walker."

"Sorry," he said, continuing to wipe at his face in an attempt to wake up more fully.

"Rick, take a nap. You haven't slept in at least 48 hours."

"No. No I'm fine," he insisted.

"You need to sleep. She'll still be here when you wake up. I'll stay here with her. Let me help."

Rick blinked a few times and looked back at Michonne, studying her face for any sign of discomfort.

"Why did you insist on coming with us?" Rick asked Sasha. "And then staying with me here?"

She also looked down at Michonne's ashen face, a sheen of sweat still visible on her forehead.

"I came to help. And also because I owe her. She saved my life," Sasha admitted, gently stroking one of Michonne's cold fingers. "That day I went into the woods, when we were at the furniture store, I was in so much pain. I was so tired of living, tired of feeling, tired of fighting to survive every day. I gave up. I ended it. I wrapped a rope around a tree and hung myself."

Rick listened intently as Sasha stared, absentmindedly running her fingers past the scars that marred her neck, recounting the day her life changed.

"As soon as I jumped I regretted it, but as I hung there losing consciousness I figured no one would come looking for me. That stunt I pulled with the walkers in the barn, almost getting you, Abraham, and everyone else killed… I figured it'd be good riddance. But when I woke up, she was there. Encouraging me to breathe, telling me I was gonna live. Telling me this was a new start. The _least_ I can do is sit with her now."

Rick swallowed deeply.

"She saved my life too. The first day I met her. She's saved my life more than once, in different ways. She gave me hope when I didn't have much. She gave Carl and I direction after losing everything we had. And now…" Rick looked down at Michonne's abdomen, covered in bandages and a blanket.

"She's giving me more than I could ever want. More than I deserve."

Sasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she suspected there was more behind Rick's words than there seemed. She stood and approached Rick, placing her hand on his arm.

"Get some sleep. I'll stay here with her."

"I'm good."

"You're not. A few minutes ago you almost fell off your chair. You need to sleep. Just for a few hours. You know if she wakes up I'll get you."

"I can't…"

"Rick!" Sasha said sharply, startling him with the voracity of her words. "Go. To. Sleep."

He sighed and looked back at Michonne. He reluctantly let go of her hand which he was holding, and got up from his chair.

"There's a couch in the room next door, that's where I slept last night. It's comfortable enough."

Rick sighed, not knowing if he'd even be able to fall asleep.

"Thanks Sasha," he said, before leaving the room.

Rick was only able to nap for thirty minutes, but the brief sleep helped recharge him, and allow him to focus some of the nervous energy he was feeling.

As soon as he awoke, he was back in Michonne's room, relieving Sasha of her post. He sat for another hour, during which Pete arrived, checking Michonne's temperature, blood pressure, and the drainage from her wound. Her temperature had dropped another degree, of which Rick was grateful. Rick stared the man down as he tended to Michonne. He was angry at him for initially refusing to help her, but also grateful that he came around. Still, Rick didn't trust him or want him alone with Michonne.

Pete did what he had to do quickly, not feeling comfortable under Rick's intense stare. And once he had checked what he needed he left the room, leaving the couple alone.

After another long half hour passed, a small moan from Michonne drew Rick's attention. She took a deep breath and her forehead furrowed slightly.

"Michonne," Rick whispered with a relieved smile, placing his hand on her shoulder and rubbing circles with his thumb. Her head slowly rolled in the direction of his voice, but she stopped moving after that.

"Come on Michonne, open your eyes sweetheart."

At the sound of Rick's voice, Michonne's eyes began to flutter, and then slowly opened to a squint.

At first she saw nothing but a blur. Her eyes were unfocused and she wasn't sure what exactly she was looking at. She blinked rapidly and within a few seconds Rick's face slowly came into view. She focused on him until she could recognize his blue eyes shining down at her, darting from place to place on her face, checking her out. She didn't know why he looked so scared. Was something wrong?

Her heart rate increased at the thought that something was scaring him. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but she couldn't speak. Her mouth, her tongue, her throat, all of it was dry. Her attempt to speak resulted in a squeaky breath.

"Shh, shh," Rick soothed, rubbing her shoulder. He reached over and grabbed a glass of water that was on the table by her bed. He placed his right hand behind her neck to elevate her head, while he held the glass of water to her lips with his left.

The small elevation of her head put pressure on her abdomen, and she released a groan as pain pierced her abdomen and side.

"Hold on, don't move," Rick said, slowly resting Michonne's head back on the pillow. He grabbed a straw and plunged the straw into the cup, and brought it to her lips where she took tentative sips. When she'd drank all she could manage, which equaled a mouthful, she lay back on the pillows to catch her breath. The small act of drinking made her feel as though she'd walked a few blocks.

"How are you feeling?" Rick asked.

"Rick..." Michonne cleared her throat when her voice came out raspy. "Rick where are we?"

"We're in the infirmary in Alexandria, the community we were bringing you to."

"When did we get here? How long have I been here?"

"Yesterday. You've been here for a day."

Michonne looked down at herself, noticing she no longer was wrapped in the blood soaked rags she'd been in when she'd passed out. She had clean bandages, and was wearing a clean hospital gown. The sheet that covered her body didn't smell like mold or mildew. It had been washed at some point. Wherever they were, at least it seemed sanitary.

There was a persistent pain that radiated from the stab wound in her side and spread across her stomach as far as her belly button. Her limbs felt heavy like she had weights on them, and she couldn't remember ever feeling so weak in her life.

"Everything hurts. What's wrong with me?"

"The blood loss is gonna make you feel weak for a while. And the infection from the stab wound spread a bit in your abdomen. Pete, the surgeon…"

"I had surgery?"

"Yes. There's a doctor here. He saved your life. He gave you antibiotics but he only had basic painkillers. I know you're in pain…"

"It's alright," Michonne said, expending enough energy to reach for Rick's hand. He quickly entwined their fingers and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "What happened when we got here? Do you trust these people? I don't remember much."

"We rescued two of their people on the way here. In exchange they agreed to treat you. I haven't really explored this place yet, I've been here with you, but Sasha went outside and she seems to think it's okay. The leader here agreed to give our group a house to live in when they arrive."

Michonne raised an eyebrow, her expression saying everything that Rick was thinking.

"Yea, I thought that was strange too, but they seem sincere so far. Either way, now that you're awake I feel a little better about things."

"How long do I have to stay here?" Michonne asked.

"The doctor says a week," Rick exaggerated. Although Pete had told him Michonne had to stay at least three days, he observed how weak she was and he wasn't comfortable with her leaving. He knew if he told her three days she'd be rearing to go in two. He just wanted her to have time to truly heal. For her sake, and the sake of their developing baby that she wasn't aware of yet.

Michonne's eyes scanned the bright room. She took in the clean linens, and the medical supplies, but something else immediately stole her attention.

"Is there electricity here?" she asked as her head tilted towards the bright light above her, her curiosity making her completely forget the pain she was in.

"Yes. They use solar power."

"I never thought I'd see a lit lightbulb again," she said in wonder.

"I have to say, it was their resources that kept you alive. The medical attention, medicine, electricity... If we didn't have that…" Rick shook his head. "I thought I was going to lose you."

He bent down and kissed Michonne's lips, thankful when she returned the kiss eagerly.

"I love you so much," he said, reminding her in case she'd forgotten.

"I love you too," she said with a nod. "Thank you for getting me here. _You_ saved my life."

Rick nodded and smiled, but his smile slowly dissolved when he realized he had to reveal to Michonne what he knew about her. And he wasn't sure how she'd react.

She picked up on his change in demeanor and her eyes opened slightly.

"What?" she asked.

"You have to eat something," Rick said, changing the subject quickly. He reached into the basket Deanna had brung, and removed the jar of applesauce inside. He dipped a spoon into the mason jar, and held it out for Michonne to take.

"I'm not hungry. I feel sick to my stomach. If I eat I'll throw it back up."

"C'mon, just a spoonful," Rick insisted. "You haven't eaten much for days."

"I don't want it," Michonne said, her voice showing her clear determination. Rick made a strange face that she couldn't quite interpret, and slowly placed the cover on the jar.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You have to eat."

"I will. When I'm not in so much pain. Why?"

Rick sighed and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Rick, what is it? I know something's wrong." Her eyes suddenly popped open. "Did we lose someone?"

Rick realized his lack of communication was causing her to panic and he didn't want to stress her out even more. He held her hand and gazed deep into her brown eyes.

"You're pregnant."

Michonne's forehead furrowed and she stared at Rick in disbelief. She then chuckled softly, thinking he was making a joke. When he continued to look at her the smile dissolved from her face.

"What? No- no I'm not," she said, confused about where this was coming from. When he continued to stare at her, it finally sunk in that he was serious.

"You're kidding," she tried again, hoping he'd laugh along with her. He shook his head, no longer making eye contact with her.

"I'm pregnant? How… how do you know?"

"Pete, the doctor, gave you an ultrasound. He showed me our baby. I heard the heartbeat."

Michonne stared at Rick with her eyes wide, not fully registering what he was telling her.

"But how could...? We only had sex once. We… we… I can't…"

"I know it's hard to believe, but it's true Michonne," Rick reiterated. He could tell her brain was trying to wrap itself around the idea that she was pregnant from their one wonderful night together. She stared past him as she thought about what this information could mean, and how she felt about it.

She slowly moved her hand down her body, carefully bypassing her bandages until she reached the area below her bellybutton. She pressed gently and winced a little.

"We're going to have a baby," Rick whispered, trying to look Michonne in the eye now, but she stared past him.

"Michonne?"

"I'm pregnant?" she asked, but Rick knew it was rhetorical. She was talking to herself now.

Rick placed his hand on her cheek, slowly drawing her face towards his.

"I know it's a shock, but we'll find a way…"

Michonne burst into tears without warning. She closed her eyes and large, fat droplets ran down her cheeks. Without thought, Rick climbed into bed next to her, and gently pressed her to him. Her chin trembled, and Rick embraced her as carefully as he could, holding her head to his chest.

"Oh don't cry," he whispered, "it'll be alright. I know you're worried but…"

"I'm happy," she said, cutting him off. She raised her head from his chest, tears still flowing from her eyes. "These are happy tears."

"Oh thank God," Rick said, releasing a long breath. "Me too."

"Is the baby okay? Is it hurt?" she asked, pulling away from Rick with panic on her face. "The knife, the fever, did it hurt the baby?"

"Pete isn't sure. All we know is our baby is alive. He or she is alive right now, and we have to keep them safe. We have to keep you safe. And healthy."

"Okay," Michonne said, rubbing her hand across her belly. Her mind was still digesting the idea of having another person inside of her. She couldn't help but think about Andre in this moment. She remembered when she found out she was pregnant with him. How happy she and Mike were when the three pregnancy tests she'd bought each showed a pink cross. She remembered seeing and feeling Andre dance inside of her while she watched him on the ultrasound. Her heart ached as she thought of her little boy.

If they were still out there, on the road, her tears wouldn't have been happy ones. But looking around at where she was, and the possibilities that a walled community held, she allowed herself to be happy. They could make this work. They _would_ make this work. There was a reason why they wound up here at this time and place.

"Okay," Rick said with a smile. He pressed a kiss to Michonne's warm forehead, and then moved to her lips, devouring her softness. Michonne moaned and kissed back, loving the feel of his lips against hers. Missing him. Wanting him, despite the pain of her injuries. She opened her lips and used her tongue, drawing him inside deeper. Rick was the one to pull back, panting.

"Let's not overdo it," he said, and she nodded reluctantly. "You're gonna make a great mama, you know?"

Michonne smiled. "And you're already a great daddy."

Michonne leaned back against her pillow, tired from this conversation. Her heavy eyelids slid closed involuntarily, and she did her best to keep them open. She felt like she'd been sleeping for days and she wanted to stay awake and take time to process the baby situation.

"Hey, take a rest," Rick suggested, seeing her fatigue.

"Pass me the spoon," Michonne commanded. Rick smiled, grabbed the spoonful of applesauce, and passed it to Michonne who slowly maneuvered it into her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty. Her mouth was dry, and her throat was swollen from dehydration.

Rick noticed and passed her the cup of water with a straw once again. All she could manage was one sip, but it was enough to moisturize her mouth and throat.

"Thanks."

"Go back to sleep now," Rick said. "You and the baby need rest. When you wake up there will be some more applesauce for you."

"Oh joy," Michonne said softly as her eyes closed.

"Sweet dreams Mama," Rick whispered in her ear.

Michonne smiled softly, giving her belly one last rub before getting comfortable for another nap.

***can08writer***

A day and a half later, Daryl and Aaron pulled their vehicles up to the gates of Alexandria. The passengers in the van and the RV looked out of the windows in wonder at the high metal walls that surrounded the town.

"Good gracious ignatius," Abraham muttered, as his eyes scanned the settlement ahead of them from the windows of the RV.

"This is my home," Aaron said proudly from the driver's seat. "Welcome to Alexandria."

Simultaneously in the van, Daryl warned the others. "Keep your eyes open and watch 'em. They seemed trusting, and they treated Michonne, but it could all be an act."

Carol, Glenn, Maggie, and Carl nodded and prepared themselves as the gates slowly rolled open to allow them access. They pulled the van and RV onto a street in the manicured community, and noticed a small woman wearing slacks and a blazer approaching the vehicles and waiting for them to get out. She was standing next to a mousey woman with a rolling metal cart.

"Who the hell is that?" Carol whispered to Daryl before getting out of the car.

"That's Deanna. She's the leader of this place."

The group vacated the vehicle and stood in an uneasy semi-circle around the small yet fearless looking woman. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her body.

Deanna was excellent at reading faces and body language and as she gazed upon this motley crew with a plastered on smile, she picked up on distrust, exhaustion, apprehension, paranoia, and nervousness. But one thing that she didn't feel from any of the newcomers was fear.

She found it curious. Even her own people felt fear whenever coming into contact with strangers, but there was an air of confidence from this small group of survivors that she admired. It was the same air of confidence that came off Rick in waves that let her know he was the leader of his group.

She gave a cordial nod to Daryl and Maggie who she'd already met, as she passed them.

When she got to one area of the semicircle her mouth dropped open in surprise. There were two teens holding two babies.

"Your group has babies?!" Deanna asked, her hand going to her heart. "My goodness! Rick didn't say anything about children being in your group."

The others watched as Deanna stared at Judith and Gracie in absolute fascination. "And teenagers as well. Oh my."

A genuine smile slid across Deanna's face before she turned to the rest of the group once again. She figured a group that could protect and care for babies out in the wild was a group that could contribute great knowledge to her town.

"Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone. My name is Deanna Monroe, and I'm the leader of this community. Your friends, Rick, Michonne, and Sasha, are here in the infirmary. You are all welcome to join our community either on a temporary or permanent basis if you wish, but there are two stipulations. One, you must surrender your weapons now. They will be stored in our armory and returned to you if you should decide to leave."

Abraham's grip on his gun tightened, and Carl's eyes narrowed.

"Second, you all must be interviewed. It helps us to determine who you are, whether you'll fit in here, and what job you may be assigned, if you decide to stay of course."

"Job?" Glenn asked.

"Yes. Everyone here has one. Everyone contributes."

Carol shot a look at Daryl. He'd already told them about Deanna collecting their weapons in the infirmary, which is why she'd hidden a gun under her shirt.

"And what if we don't hand in our guns?" Abraham asked.

"Well, then I'd have to ask you to leave… mister?"

"Sgt. Abraham Ford."

"An army man. Well Sgt. Ford, I understand why you might not want to part with your weapon, but those are the rules of your stay here. They're still your guns. You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall. But inside here, we store them for safety. Once we've collected the weapons, I can show you where the infirmary is, and you can check in with Rick and the others from your group. I told him I would assign a house for you all to stay in, so after you're done visiting I can take you there for you to settle in."

"You're giving us a whole house?" Daryl asked skeptically.

"We have a few empty ones. I'm sure you'd want some space and privacy for the little ones," Deanna said, her eyes flitting back to the babies who gurgled obliviously.

Carl bounced Judith slightly as he listened to the conversation. Daryl had already told him that he'd surrendered his weapon once and got it back when he left the gate, just like Deanna said. He was itching to see Michonne and his father, and he didn't want to waste time with this conversation.

"Here," he said, reaching out to pass his gun to Deanna. She seemed surprised that he even had a gun, and that he was giving it to her so easily. "Where's the infirmary? Where's my dad?"

"Your dad? You're Rick's son?" Deanna asked.

"Yea. Is Michonne okay?"

"She's hanging in there, but I'll let your dad speak to you about that. The infirmary is the third house on the left."

Carl passed Judith to Carol to hold, and then immediately turned and headed towards the house.

The others kept an eye on Daryl and Maggie, seeing as though they'd already been here before and got a read on these people.

Daryl placed his crossbow on the rolling cart. The others followed suit, cautiously placing their weapons on the cart while scanning the perimeter as well as Deanna with suspicion and hypervigilance. Deanna could see just how difficult it was for them to give up their weapons.

"Thank you," she said, when they were all finished. "I know it took a lot of trust for you to do that."

"I should've brought another cart," the mousy woman with dark hair and glasses said with a brief smile, as she came towards them and pushed the cart away. Abraham looked after his weapon longingly, and Carol made sure to note which house the cart was rolled into.

"Now, if you'll follow me, the infirmary is this way."

***can08writer***

Carl walked quickly down the sidewalk of this new community. He couldn't help but notice the townspeople that were scattered here and there. They stared at him, but not with the malice that the Termites had, or the evilness that the Claimers had. They just seemed curious.

He approached the house that Deanna had signified as the infirmary, mystified when he realized the lights were on. Electricity. It was something he hadn't seen for a year, and he stared through the porch's windows at the working light bulbs like they were magical. He noticed Sasha sitting on a bench on the porch, reading a book.

She looked up and waved to Carl. "You guys are back huh?"

"Yea," Carl replied. "Is my dad inside?"

"Yep, go on in."

"Dad!" Carl called as he entered the house, walking quickly to his father when he saw him, and embracing him in a hug. Rick was surprised by the show of affection from his son, but quickly recovered and pressed a kiss to Carl's hair.

"Hey son."

"How's Michonne?"

"She's doing alright. She's been sleeping a lot, but every day she's awake for more and more hours. She's in pain though, so I wanna let her rest as much as she can, the doctor said it'll help her heal more quickly. This morning we got her out of bed for a little while and let her walk and sit in a chair, but she took a nap right after. Exerting herself really tires her out. Who did you ride with coming here?"

"Me and Judith rode with Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, and Carol in the van. Everyone else rode in the RV. When I got in the van and saw Michonne's blood on the seat, I got scared. I thought maybe she wouldn't make it."

As Carl spoke he looked down at Rick's shirt, unable to meet his eyes. Rick placed his hand on Carl's shoulder in an attempt to console his son. He knew it must've been hard not knowing Michonne's status. He thought about how he'd feel if he were in Carl's shoes.

"She's alright son. It was a scary ride here, but she's healing. I promise." When Carl didn't look up at Rick, and continued to stare at his shirt, Rick had a sudden change of attitude, and decided to allow his son to at least see Michonne.

"C'mon, just be really quiet, we don't want to wake her," Rick said quietly, pushing the door to Michonne's room open a few inches so Carl could view her.

She was laying on her uninjured side, facing the door. She seemed to be sleeping soundly, her forehead completely smooth and her mouth falling open. She was wearing a hospital gown, and Carl had never seen Michonne look so small and vulnerable. It was a shock to his senses how this woman he looked up to so much, and who he thought was invincible, could almost die so quickly.

Carl stared at her until he felt that he was strangely invading her privacy. Rick tapped his back, and Carl stepped back out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

"She's really gotten better in the past day. Her blood pressure and temperature has improved a lot."

"And the doctor thinks she'll be okay?"

Rick nodded. "You know Michonne. She can get through anything."

"Yea," Carl agreed, with a reassuring smile.

Rick's heart beat hard in his chest when he considered what he'd have to tell Carl next.

Rick walked over to the couch in the waiting room, and motioned for Carl to join him. Carl was unsure about why they were sitting, but followed his father and sat next to him on the couch.

"Carl… I have to tell you something."

Carl's forehead furrowed, and his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Rick wiped his palms across his jeans.

"Carl you know Michonne and I… we're… together. And I care about her, and she… she cares about me, and you, and Judith. We all love each other."

Carl stared at his father, not sure of the point he was trying to make. Carl already knew this information.

"So… since we love each other… we uh… well, you know… or, or maybe you don't know. I mean, you wouldn't know. But sometimes when two people love each other…"

"Dad? What are you talking about?" Carl asked.

"Well, Michonne and I… and you too, we're all expecting."

"Expecting what?" Carl asked.

Rick laughed and rubbed his fingers across his eyes.

"We're expecting a baby."

"Who's baby?"

"_Our_ baby Carl. Michonne is pregnant. She's having a baby."

Carl's eyes furrowed in confusion, but Rick spotted the moment when Rick's words finally penetrated his brain and Carl's eyes widened quickly. Rick watched as Carl pondered how this could be, and then realized how it happened. The boy's eyes shot up to meet his father's and Rick's cheeks burned a bright red although they were hidden under his large beard.

"You got Michonne pregnant?!" Carl asked, never the one to hide his emotions.

"I… we didn't plan to, but it happened."

"How do you have sex with someone but not plan to get them pregnant? Isn't that how babies happen?"

Rick slid his hands slowly down his face and would've preferred to melt into the floor rather than have this conversation with his son, but Carl didn't seem to be relenting any time soon.

"Look, the point is, we have a baby on the way. And I was hoping you'd be happy about it. We're happy about it. And I know this is a big change to our family, just like it was with Judith, but we'll be okay."

"Oh," Carl responded.

"Oh?" Rick asked.

"This is gonna be hard. Keeping Judith, and Gracie, and this new baby safe. Is it even safe here? Should we be worried?"

Rick smiled at his son, glad that he was thinking about keeping everyone safe already.

"For now it seems okay here. We'll have to learn more. And we do have to keep all the babies safe. But I believe we can. They'll be okay with a big brother like you."

Carl thought for a moment and nodded solemnly. "I'm happy for you and Michonne. The baby is okay and everything?"

"Yes," Rick confirmed, "the baby is okay."

"You have your hands full Dad," Carl stated with a small chuckle. "Good luck."

Rick smiled at Carl, and allowed the humor of the situation to come through. "You're right Carl. But this is good. Having a baby with Michonne is something we have to look forward to. It's not something we should worry about."

Carl nodded his head and sighed. "Yea."

Rick smiled and clasped his son's shoulder, glad that this conversation went better than he'd expected. And also glad that Carl hadn't asked any more embarrassing questions.

"What happened on the way here?" Rick inquired, changing the subject for now.

"Nothing really happened on the way here, but everyone was worried about Michonne when we were in the barn. Judith had diarrhea for a day and no one wanted to change her diapers, but I did eventually. And Gracie cried for like four hours straight. Enid said she must've been missing Jocelyn."

"I'll have the doctor check them both out, just to make sure they're okay. What do you think about Enid? Did she act up at all?"

"No. She kind of just sat in the corner with Gracie. I think she's sad about what happened with Evan and Jocelyn. And I understand it. That was her family, I get it. I can imagine how I'd feel if something happened to you, and Judith, and Michonne. But she kind of keeps it to herself."

"Do you think we can trust her?" Rick asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew Carl was pretty good at reading people, and he wanted to know his son's take on the teenager.

"Honestly… I don't know. If someone killed off my family and I had to live with them I think I might play nice for a while, until they trust me. And then I might try to get my revenge."

Rick nodded. That was exactly what he was thinking and he was relieved that that line of thinking had occurred to Carl as well. Even if Enid was his friend.

"Can you keep an eye on her?" Rick asked. "Watch her, make sure she's not doing anything suspicious."

Carl nodded in agreement. Just then the others arrived on the infirmary's porch and within seconds they came through the door.

Rick greeted them, relieved that they had made the journey to Alexandria unscathed and without incident.

He explained to them that Michonne was doing well but she was sleeping and he wanted to let her do so as long as possible. The others understood, and agreed to check out their housing accommodations so they wouldn't accidentally wake Michonne.

"The rest of the group is going to check out the house Deanna has assigned us. Do you want to go check it out?" Rick asked Carl.

"No. I'm gonna stay here until Michonne wakes up again."

"Okay," Rick said, patting his son on the back. "We'll just wait together."

*****can08writer*****

Maggie pushed the door open and stepped into the neat, normal looking living room. A clean carpet covered the hardwood floors that shone as if freshly mopped. A cozy living room was decorated with paintings and figurines. A pile of clean blankets were stacked on an end table. She made her way to the spacious kitchen as the others followed behind her, taking in the house but still on edge. She stalked into the kitchen, the immaculate granite counter twinkling in the sunlight that the kitchen window let in.

She ran her fingers across the cool countertop, and then reached for the faucet, not expecting anything to happen, but still curious. She was startled when water shot out from the faucet, releasing a hissing sound that made everyone flinch and zero in on her location.

Maggie stared at the water pouring through her fingers and into the drain below. It seemed almost unimaginable that a faucet would release clean, drinkable water on demand. She'd lived almost her whole life expecting it to, but after the year that they'd had she'd never expected to see such a thing again.

Once she realized she was potentially wasting this clean water, she shut the faucet back off and looked up at the rest of the group who were staring in disbelief at what they'd just seen.

There was a stunned silence until Glenn broke it.

"Shower, anyone?"

The group took turns taking a hot shower, each person given their time to wash off the grime of living on the road for months on end. By the time the last person had finished showering, the shower floor was covered in dirt, leaves, and twigs, but the group had new found energy, and seemed more positive about the community.

A few hours after they'd been allowed to settle into the home, there was a knock on the door.

Glenn opened it and found himself face to face with Deanna.

"I'm sorry to bother all of you," Deanna said as she entered the house, "but I came to check in and see how you were all settling, and if there was anything you needed."

Her eyes scanned the group, noticing the wet hair and the sudden lack of dirt that had been previously covering their faces and hands. She smiled and nodded her head.

"There's nothing like a hot shower to brighten the mood, huh?"

When she didn't receive an answer, she cleared her throat.

"I also wanted to invite all of you to eat dinner with the rest of the community. When the weather is good we like to eat outside together. It's a way for us to bond. I know you all have just arrived today and you haven't really gotten an opportunity to settle, so if you would feel more comfortable not coming it's really okay. But I wanted to offer you all the opportunity. We'd be honored to have you. You wouldn't have to talk to anyone, and I asked the town to let you all be for a while. And if you prefer to eat here I'll have someone bring you all plates of food. I think beans, corn, and cocktail wieners are on the menu."

"Um. We'll think about it," Glenn said.

Deanna smiled and nodded again. "Well, I'll be going then. Everyone is over there by the lake if you decide to come."

She took another look around and her eyes fell on the babies.

"Oh my, I didn't even bring anything for these precious girls! How are you on food for them? Are they breastfeeding? Do you have enough formula for them? We don't have any babies here, never even thought about them. I'll tell the runners to keep a lookout for baby supplies. We do have applesauce though. I'll have someone from the pantry send some over."

Deanna realized she hadn't seen anyone who looked like the mother of Gracie or Judith. None of the women seemed to be breastfeeding, and every time she'd seen the babies they were in the arms of someone different. Now, Maggie was holding Judith, and Sasha was bouncing a sleeping Gracie on her lap.

It was obvious their mothers were not in the group, and that revelation alone broke Deanna's heart.

"I'll ask the pantry if we have a box of Cheerios, they may be able to chew on that a little as well," Deanna offered.

"Thank you," Maggie called from her spot on the couch.

"Well then, I hope I'll see you all at dinner."

Deanna gave the group one last nod before leaving.

***can08writer***

Michonne had woken up and Carl had an opportunity to talk to her before Rick had encouraged him to go to the community gathering with the rest of the group. When Carl met up with the group again they'd all showered and changed their clothes, except for Daryl who looked the same as he'd always had. Their hair had been combed, teeth had been brushed, and visible dirt had been removed. Carl had never seen the group look so neat and clean.

They traveled to the cookout as a unit, searching the perimeter suspiciously, and staring down passersby as they walked. They all carried knives on them, and Carol still had her hidden gun. The residents stared at the group. A few nodded at them, but most tried to stay out of their way.

They walked to a grassy area, where food had been laid out on a long table and anyone was welcome to grab a plate. Children were playing in the grass, adults standing around in groups chatting, and Carl immediately noticed a small group of teens sitting in a gazebo by the lake.

They looked so… normal. It was unnerving. They were laughing, two of the boys were playing a game that involved slapping each other's hands, while two more boys watched and recited commentary on what was happening. Carl stared at them without realizing it.

Enid, who was a few feet away from him, followed Carl's gaze to the group of boys.

"These kids look like they've never been out the gates," she mumbled.

"Yea," Carl agreed. "They seem totally clueless."

"Lucky them," Enid said before turning towards the food tables.

Carl stared a few seconds longer before grabbing a plate with the others.

The dinner was buffet style, and the group helped themselves to the food, heaping spoonfuls for beans, vegetables, tuna, and other canned products onto their plate. Carl's personal favorite was the grilled corn on the cob, which he took three shares of. The Alexandrians seemed to stay out of their way for the most part, the bravest among them nodding or waving at the table as they passed by.

The group ate quickly, shoveling food into their mouths. It had been awhile since they'd had this much food available that they didn't have to ration and carefully divide. Carl was basically vacuuming beans into his mouth, not even pausing to chew. Abraham had cleared his plate and was already on plate number two. Judith was smearing beans on her hands and then pressing her hands into her mouth, sucking the mashed beans off. Their table was silent as they ate, no one bothering to engage in frivolous conversation like the others around them.

Carl finally finished his plate and stood to make a plate for Rick and Michonne who were in the infirmary, when he noticed a blond girl approaching their table. She was walking almost in a daze, her large blue eyes fixed on their group, but her mouth hung open in disbelief, almost fear. Carl felt his stomach drop as recognition slowly settled in.

Maggie looked up when the girl was mere feet from the table, and her face went white. Her eyes became saucers and her shaking hand covered her open mouth.

"B-Beth?" Maggie gasped softly, her voice almost a whisper.

**_Author's note:_****_Hi everyone! Look, I'm not a huge fan of Beth Greene, but for the past two chapters I've gotten multiple reviews and PMs asking what happened to Beth. And at first I was taken aback because I have never focused any of my stories on Beth nor have I given anyone the impression that I'm a Beth writer, but if having some completion to her story makes a few people happy, then hey, I can throw that in there._**

**_I am trying to wrap up this story. Unfortunately it is getting harder and harder for me to come up with new Richonne content seeing as though they both are no longer on the show and God knows when we'll get that movie. But like I've said in the past, I will try to complete all of my unfinished stories eventually. I hope you are enjoying this story, and thank you for reading and reviewing. I appreciate all of you._**


	22. Chapter 22

Maggie stared like a woman who'd seen a ghost.

Beth continued to walk forward, tears in her eyes. As she got closer, her arms opened.

Maggie nearly fell off her chair in her effort to get to her sister, running at her to close the space between them.

The others in the group gaped as the girl who'd been missing from their group for months was suddenly found. Maggie wrapped her arms around her sister and called her name over and over again. Both women cried, grasping on to each other as if someone would try to pull them apart.

Maggie and Beth collapsed to the ground in a sobbing pile, Maggie repeatedly petting and kissing her sister's hair, while Beth laughed and cried almost simultaneously. Maggie was on her knees, as she held Beth who was sitting on the ground, close to her.

"I'm so sorry," Maggie managed to choke out as she buried her face into her little sister's hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd survived. I'm sorry I gave up. I thought you'd died. I am so, so sorry Beth. I love you so much. Please forgive me."

Beth didn't speak a word as she hugged her sister tighter and sobbed.

Glenn dropped to the ground and embraced his wife and sister-in-law at the same time, helping them to stay upright before they ended up lying in the grass. Daryl ran to Beth as well, leaning down to embrace her. He pressed a kiss to her hair, and she reached up and patted his cheek with a smile on her face.

"You're here," Daryl laughed. "I knew you were a tough son of a bitch."

The rest of the group were close behind, standing, staring, and crying, with hands clasped over their mouths as they studied Beth in disbelief.

Abraham, Eugene, Enid, and Father Gabriel looked on at the scene rather puzzled, as did the Alexandrians who gaped, unsure of what was going on.

After a minute or so, Glenn and Daryl helped Maggie and Beth to their feet, despite the fact that they were still clinging to each other.

"Here, here, sit down," Glenn directed, pulling out a chair for Maggie, as Daryl quickly did the same for Beth.

"Beth…" Maggie whispered through her tears. "How did you get here? How are you… When?"

"Maggie," Beth whispered, still clinging to her sister.

"How did you get all the way here?" Maggie asked. She pulled her head away from her sister's so she could look into her eyes. Beth stared back, and Maggie could see healed scratches and blotches on her youthful, once blemishless face. Maggie held Beth's cheeks with her palms, and studied the cuts.

"Oh Bethy. What happened to you?" she asked.

Beth burst into tears once again and buried her face into her sister's chest.

The group was attracting a lot of curious stares, and one of the Alexandrian women came over and kindly passed a handful of napkins to Glenn, who nodded gratefully before passing it to Maggie and Beth so they could wipe their wet faces.

"Hey, let's take her to our house where we can talk in private," Glenn said.

Maggie and Beth didn't respond to him, but the rest of the group agreed and began cleaning up their area. They made a small protective circle around the women who were still visibly upset, and took their leave from the gathering without another word, leaving the stunned Alexandrians to gossip and speculate about what just happened.

"I've been here for a couple weeks," Beth explained once they'd all settled on the sofas and floor of their new house, her voice hoarse from the crying she'd done. Maggie was seated next to her on the couch, their hands entwined reassuringly.

"Deanna was nice enough to take me in. Her people wrapped up my wounds and fed me, they were the nicest group of people I'd encountered since we all got separated."

"You got here from Georgia all by yourself?" Maggie asked.

"No. I was with Daryl at first," Beth said, her eyes searching the area for Daryl's who was watching her from across the room. "I was running from walkers and then… I was in a truck. I didn't know what happened, but I had wounds on my hip and legs. I think they hit me with their truck. They told me they found me, but they were liars."

She stared forwards, not looking at anyone in particular as she remembered the events that led to her arrival in Alexandria.

"I woke up in the back of a truck with a few other girls. The girls were trying to treat me. It was dark, I didn't know what was happening. I quickly realized they were all part of a cult. They believed they were the only survivors left on Earth. They were the chosen. And it was their job to repopulate the earth with the chosen, or some bullshit like that."

Beth narrowed her eyes as she reminisced.

"There were four guys and ten women so…there was polygamy going on. And every time they found someone alive, someone who was one of the chosen, they added them to the group. They wanted to marry me off as soon as I healed up. It was crazy, but I had to stay with them because I was injured, and I didnt think I could go far. I tried to get them to go back and look for Daryl but they said if he was meant to find us he would."

Beth laughed and shook her head.

"It's funny, they weren't as desperate to add _men_ to their group as they were women. They drove all day, and at night the men would go off into the woods with whichever wife had a turn with them. I was grateful I was hurt so they'd leave me alone. To make a long story short, I escaped with another girl. We had a lucky break and took the opportunity to run. We had no idea where we were. We survived on the road for a few weeks, just the two of us. I didn't know how to get back to you, Daryl, or the prison. So we just went forward. Aaron and Eric found us. We were half starved by then, full of ticks, and my friend, Tara, she was sick. She died a week after we made it here. Some kind of flu that Pete couldn't treat. I was just glad she didn't die out there. Lying in the dirt, covered in flies and mosquitoes… she died in a clean bed, with food in her belly, and I couldn't have asked for more."

"Oh Bethy," Maggie said, pulling Beth's head to rest on her shoulder. Beth pulled away after a few seconds.

"Is this all that's left of our group? Bob, and Tyrese, and Rick and the others, they're all gone?"

"Bob and Tyrese were killed," Sasha said softly, "but Rick is in the infirmary. A woman we met on the road, Michonne, was injured, so Rick is with her."

"And Judith, oh you've grown so much since I last saw you," Beth said, reaching her arms out to Judith who Carl was holding. Carl passed his sister to her long time babysitter, and the small girl relaxed in Beth's arms to her surprise. Beth smiled proudly that Judith still remembered her even through their separation of months.

"And there's so many new people in the group now," Beth said, looking around.

"They're friends," Maggie confirmed. "Our family just grew a little. That's all."

**A few days later**

"One, two, three," Carl counted. On three Michonne pulled herself up to a standing position, and grasped Carl's arm to steady herself.

"Good," he encouraged, "let's go for a little walk."

Michonne allowed Carl to lead her out of the infirmary bed, through the adjoining room, and onto the infirmary's porch. She was getting better with walking. As her wound healed it hurt her abdominal muscles less for her to sit upright and stand, but when walking it helped her to have someone or something to lean on. She was still in a lot of pain, more than she let on to Carl and Rick.

Rick had been watching her like a hawk, and as much as she loved the man, she needed a break from his overprotective gaze. He had barely left her side since they'd arrived a few days ago, and she had finally convinced him to leave her room and check out the houses that the rest of the family had settled into.

She'd also encouraged him to take a nap while he was at it, but she wasn't sure he'd comply. He'd only left because Carl had insisted on staying with her. And Michonne was looking forward to the day that she healed up enough to be alone with her thoughts for more than five minutes, but she knew with her slowly growing baby belly on the way, that wouldn't be for a very, very long time.

Carl helped Michonne gently lower herself into one of the rocking chairs that lined the infirmary's porch.

She made a few grimaces on her way down, but once she was settled into the chair she was fine. She glanced around at the bustling community ahead of her. She hadn't gotten the chance to explore like everyone else had, but she was beginning to get used to seeing strangers walking up and down the streets without her body immediately going on red alert.

"So how is it out there?" Michonne asked Carl. "What do you think of the people? Are they nice? Strange? Shady?"

Carl let out a breath as he thought.

"They seem… nice. A little clueless. Enid and I got invited over to this kid's house, Mikey, and it was so weird. He said his dad has a pool table in the garage and his dad is real strict about it, so he bragged to us that sometimes he sneaks down there and uses it when his dad is at work. And he was boasting that he _saw_ a walker once when he snuck onto the look out platform at night. Enid and I had to hold back our laughs."

Carl shook his head in disgust. "It's like they live in a different world. Like that shit…"

He looked up at Michonne when he cursed, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Like any of that stuff would impress anyone. I bet if I told them half the things I'd been through they'd think I was a badass."

Michonne laughed. "You are a badass. But you know that already. You don't have to prove it to them."

"Well, now that Beth has given her stamp of approval on this place I'm not so suspicious, but I'm not letting my guard down."

Michonne nodded at Carl, and then spotted a young boy as he walked his dog around the lake in the middle of the community. The normality of that simple action was unnerving, and she understood the strangeness that Carl was speaking of.

"So have you and my dad thought of any names yet?" Carl asked Michonne.

A rush of blood surged to Michonne's cheeks. She knew Rick had told Carl about the pregnancy, but she and Carl hadn't spoken about it. Her healing injuries and infection had taken precedent.

"Uh… no, we haven't," Michonne said, her hand absently resting on her belly. "It's too early to tell if it's a boy or a girl. And…" she sighed a bit, and allowed her eyes to fall on Carl's who was listening intently. "Pete said we don't know if the baby will make it. I was injured really badly and it may have affected the baby. So…" She shrugged simply and glanced back at the lake.

"So you don't want to get your hopes up?" Carl finished.

"Yea. I guess that's it," Michonne admitted. "I mean, I'm happy. I really am. But I don't think I could handle it if I allowed myself to get really excited and then it doesn't happen."

Carl studied Michonne thoughtfully.

"When will you know if the baby will be okay?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. There's still a high risk until I get out of my first trimester I guess. So another month maybe."

Carl nodded and then unexpectedly reached out and patted Michonne's hand.

"I get it. When I found out my mom was pregnant with Judith I was really happy. I thought it would be cool to have a little brother or sister, and teach them stuff. I thought maybe my mom and dad would get back together and everything would be okay again. But I never imagined my little sister would kill my mom."

Michonne took in a sharp breath when Carl spoke those words.

"I mean, I know she didn't kill her. It wasn't Judith's fault. But if my mom hadn't gotten pregnant with Judith she'd probably still be alive now. And I got my hopes up thinking about how our family would get better, and for a long time it only got worse. But now, thinking back, I'm still sad that my mom died, but it did get better. Because even though I lost my mom, I gained another one. And our family still loves each other. And my dad is happy, and my sister is happy, and now I'm gonna have another sibling. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I think things get better in the long run. And it's okay if you don't want to get your hopes up, but I think the baby will be okay. I want to hope that it will."

Michonne was speechless. She should've expected the maturity and thoughtfulness that she knew Carl had, but he always seemed to surprise her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she carefully opened her arms, cautious not to move too quickly and hurt her side.

Carl stood and wrapped his arms around Michonne, rubbing her back.

"Carlita might be a good name for a girl," Michonne joked into Carl's shoulder.

Carl laughed and let her go, returning to his seat. "Carlo for a boy," he suggested.

They sat on the steps, discussing additional baby names for a few minutes, when Michonne spotted Pete walking towards the infirmary. He had a strange lilt to his step that she couldn't quite place. And his eyes seemed a little glazed over. When he made it to the infirmary's steps he stared at them for a few seconds longer than necessary, and then made his way up them, leaning on the railing more than he should.

Michonne could immediately tell he was off. When he got to the top of the steps he paused in front of them, swaying slightly on his feet.

"Hey Pete," she said, a hint of concern in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, yea," he said, wiping a small amount of sweat from his forehead. "It's just been a rough morning, y'know? How are you feeling today?"

"I'm good, just getting some fresh air."

"Yea. Yea, that's great," Pete responded absentmindedly, not even looking at them. He took a step towards the door and stumbled before finding his balance. "I'm just gonna… go tidy up in there. When you're done out here, it's time to take those stitches out. And then you can… get out of here."

"Really?" Carl asked. "You think she's healed enough to leave today?"

"Your blood pressure and temperature have stayed steady for a few days. Besides pain manage… management… and not moving around too much, you should be good. Just come inside when... you're ready."

Michonne was concerned by the slurring in Pete's voice, he sounded like he was having trouble getting out certain words.

"Pete, are you sure you're alright? You seem a little unsteady," Michonne commented. He either didn't hear her or ignored her, and made his way into the infirmary.

Carl turned and gave Michonne a look. Both had noticed Pete's strange behavior.

"Do you think I should let my dad know Pete's letting you leave?"

"No," Michonne said, her voice showing some excitement at the prospect of leaving the infirmary for the first time in days. "After the stitches are out, we'll just walk over to the house and surprise him. As long as I have you to help me, I can make the walk."

A few minutes later, Michonne sat on an exam table with her abdomen exposed, as Pete prepared to cut her stitches.

"Are you sure you're okay Pete? You seem… flushed."

"Yea I'm good. I'm great. I had a fight with the wife this morning, that's all. I'm just a little upset."

"Okay…" Michonne said, watching as Pete cut at the bandages that circled her abdomen. "Can I ask what it was about?"

She honestly didn't care much about the domestic squabble between Pete and his wife, but she wanted to assess his state of mind.

"She's just always nagging, you know? Nothing is enough for her. I'm never good enough."

Pete's hands began to shake slightly as he cut at Michonne's bandage.

"She just pisses me off sometimes. Always… bitching about the kids, and my work schedule, and what I do with my free time."

The bandage had now fallen away, and Pete reached for the scissors to cut at the stitches, his hands still shaking.

"She must think I'm sitting around at the infirmary, doing nothing all day, y'know? When I get home and tell her I'm tired and I don't wanna talk, she starts her whining and her… bitching."

Michonne watched Pete's shaking hand as he reached for her stomach to cut out the first of the stitches.

"Hey!" Michonne said, grabbing on to Pete's hand. "Maybe you should take a second to calm down. You're shaking."

"I'm… calm," Pete muttered. He reached for her again with the scissors. "Let me just cut the stitches so you can leave."

"Pete," Michonne said calmly as she finally realized what was going on. "You're not coming anywhere near me with that scissor. How much did you have to drink today?"

"Shit, I barely had anything. I know how to handle my liquor. It's none of your damn business anyway."

"It's my business when you're coming at me with a scissor and shaky hands, slurring your words, and obviously drunk."

"I'm fine. You sound like my wife."

"Well if she told you you were drunk she was stating the obvious. You're not going to touch anything on me when you can barely hold a scissor," Michonne stated, carefully pushing herself upwards and preparing to pull down her shirt to cover the wound.

"I said I'm fine! Look, just stay fucking still and let me do my damn job!" Pete huffed, becoming agitated. He quickly reached for Michonne, and before she could move away snipped one of the stitches, but the scissor didn't cut through the stitch all the way, and his quick motion pulled on the stitch, ripping the opening and causing Michonne to bleed.

"Ow!" she screamed loudly, grabbing her stomach with one hand, while pushing Pete away with the other.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. Let me see…" Pete said, but angry and in pain, Michonne kicked him in the leg, causing him to stumble into the chair next to her bed. Carl, who was in the waiting room heard the commotion and knocked on the door.

"Michonne? Are you alright?"

When she didn't immediately answer, Carl cracked the door and saw Pete rubbing his leg where he'd been kicked, and Michonne sitting on the exam table, holding her abdomen. When he noticed a small amount of blood on her hand, Carl knew something had happened.

"I'm sorry, that only happened because you didn't stay still," Pete shouted.

Carl ran to Michonne's side, staring at her pulled stitch before turning and glaring at Pete.

"What did he do?" Carl growled, and it was the first time that Michonne realized that Carl's voice was beginning to change. The low timber that resonated in it made him sound more like a man than a young teen.

Pete noted how much his eyes looked like his father, and his expression of barely restrained anger reminded him of Rick's rage.

"I didn't do anything wrong. I was cutting the stitches and the scissor got caught. Right? Go on, tell the kid what happened. It was just an accident."

"I told you not to touch me."

"What did he do to you?" Carl asked, his eyes narrowing.

"It doesn't matter," Michonne said, pushing herself to her feet. "I'm leaving. You're drunk, and you're not gonna touch me again. Carl, where's my clothes?"

Carl, still glaring at Pete, gestured to the bag of clothing next to Michonne's bed.

"Get out of my room," Michonne demanded to Pete as she made her way to her bag, bending carefully as she leaned down to lift one side of the bag. Carl helped her, lifting the other strap so she could put the bag on the bed.

"Hey. I… I hope you don't think I did anything. I'm not drunk. I mean, I'm just a little buzzed but it doesn't affect my work at all. I… I hope you're not blowing this out of proportion. Going around spreading rumors about things that didn't happen. You're new here. It's not gonna be good if you misinterpret things."

"She said GET OUT!" Carl roared, taking a step towards Pete. Although the man was significantly taller than Carl, the look on Carl's face convinced Pete this wasn't a conversation he wanted to pursue. He took a few steps backwards towards the door.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," Pete muttered, before leaving the room.

Carl guarded the door to Michonne's room, as she struggled to put her clothing on for the first time in days. The pain in her abdomen increased as she slid her pants up her leg, but she breathed through it and pulled the pants up as far as she dared, not bothering to fasten her jeans. She slid her tank top over her head, and slowly pulled it down her chest, grimacing as she did. She had to get out of here, she refused to stay while Pete was drunk.

Michonne carefully made her way to her door, where Carl was waiting for her and actively scowling at Pete.

Pete had sat down at a desk with his chin propped up with both hands. He looked up when Michonne entered the room.

Carl wrapped his arm around hers and escorted her to the front door. When she got there she paused and looked back at Pete.

"Thank you for saving my life. I appreciate it. I do. But you're drunk,

and a drunk doctor is dangerous to everyone."

"I… I know. It's just been a rough morning and I got carried away. Please dont tell Deanna."

"Look. I don't know if this is a one time thing for you, or if this is a habit, but you cannot see patients today. You are done. Got it? Let Denise take over or something. If I find out you kept working while you were wasted I'll tell Deanna."

"Okay. Okay. I'll go home right now. Thank you Michonne. Thanks so much."

Michonne rolled her eyes, and not wanting to continue the conversation any further, and she left the infirmary on Carl's arm.

The three block walk to the home that their group was staying in was difficult for Michonne, but Carl patiently supported her until they arrived.

***can08writer***

"I'll kill him," Rick growled as he paced back and forth in front of Michonne who was seated on their bed. She sighed and leaned back on the bed, resting her weight on her palms.

"He didn't hurt me on purpose," she said softly.

Rick spun around to glance at her and she spoke louder. "I'm not defending him. He's an asshole for coming to the infirmary drunk. But he didn't do any major damage."

"He opened your stitches."

"Believe me, I know," Michonne said with a wince. "But besides that, I'm okay. And I'm home. And I'm getting better. And we have lots to celebrate."

Rick sighed and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arm carefully around her waist. "We do. And for that simple fact I won't break his jaw. But if he ever touches you again, I swear…"

"Rick, he's gonna have to. He's the only real doctor here. Who do you think is gonna deliver our baby? Let's not make an enemy here."

Rick sighed again and looked into Michonne's eyes. As much as he wanted to punch Pete for hurting Michonne even more than she already had been hurt, she was right.

"Fine. But I think we should let Deanna handle him."

"Let's just wait on that. Okay?" she asked.

Rick looked into her big brown eyes and saw the exhaustion there. She'd expended a lot of energy walking from the infirmary, and once she'd come home, Maggie was kind enough to cut the stitches that Pete had attempted earlier. He'd just helped her upstairs to the room he'd been sharing with Judith, and he could see the toll all that movement had on her.

"C'mon. Let me get you out of those clothes and in the bed."

"No," Michonne said, resting a hand on his chest. "I want a bath. A real one, not a sponge bath. That is what I _need_ right now."

"Okay," he said, standing. "I'll get on it."

Rick disappeared into the bathroom connected to their bedroom and she could hear the water running. She still couldn't believe they had arrived somewhere where clean water was plentiful and they could make almost unlimited noise without having to worry. It still felt like a dream.

While Rick prepared her bath, Michonne kicked off her shoes, and used her feet to remove her socks. She tried to shimmy out of her pants, but the movement was too much. Her still healing abdominal muscles rebelled from the maneuvering, and she realized she'd just have to wait for Rick to help her. She ran her palm over the area where her tiny baby was growing larger every day.

"Are you still okay in there?" she whispered to it. "You've survived so much already, I know you're a little fighter. I know you'll be okay. I believe it. I can't wait to meet you. Your daddy and I, we're so excited. And you have a big brother, and a big sister who are waiting to see you. And you have lots of aunts and uncles who will love to spoil you. You're gonna have a good life, little one. I promise you that. Okay?"

A slight movement startled Michonne. She looked up to see Rick watching her from the doorway of the bathroom with a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the two of you, but your bath is ready."

Michonne smiled and held out her hand. Rick slowly pulled her up from the mattress, and supported her as they made their way into the bathroom. She was surprised when she saw candles lit around the tub.

"You romantic you," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"So I've been told," he smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. He carefully undressed her, pulling down her jeans and panties and helping her step out of them so she didn't have to bend. He then rolled her shirt up and over her head, his eyes automatically being drawn to the wound on her abdomen. Anger once again welled up inside him. Anger towards Jocelyn for almost killing her, but also anger towards Pete for hurting her with his irresponsibility.

When she was naked, he ran his fingers down her side, carefully avoiding the area that was still sensitive.

"How are you feeling? Do you need another dose of painkillers?"

"No. I just want to sit in the water. It'll help," she reassured him. Michonne allowed her eyes to scan the bathroom and noticed something disturbing.

"There are no windows in here," she said softly. She let out a chuckle. "I promised myself I'd never take a bath in a windowless bathroom again after the way we met."

Rick smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "I promise if two random men try to kick the door down in the middle of your bath I'll protect you."

Michonne smirked and shook her head at the man she'd come to love and trust over anyone else. She couldn't believe she'd almost killed him at first sight, and now she was happily carrying his child.

"Your bath is getting cold. C'mon," he said, guiding her to the tub. She carefully stepped in, and Rick helped her slowly recline into a sitting position, even though she released a few moans as her abdomen bent. When she was seated she stretched out her legs and sank below the water.

"Is the temperature okay?" Rick asked before sitting on the edge of the tub.

"It's perfect," Michonne sighed, closing her eyes contentedly.

Rick took a washcloth and dipped it in the water, and then added soap to it.

"Just relax," he murmured, before gathering up her locs and resting them on one of her shoulders. He ran the washcloth down the smooth, dark skin of her back, watching as the suds slid slowly across her skin. He glided the cloth around her shoulders to the front of her chest, and cleaned her skin there, allowing the natural curve of her body to direct the flow of suds as they ran down her front.

Michonne released a soft sigh as Rick maneuvered the washcloth across her breasts, and he couldn't help but notice how they pebbled at his touch. He chewed his lip, but continued to her arms, gently rubbing and massaging them as the washcloth cleaned them.

Michonne allowed her head to fall back against the wall of the tub as Rick cleaned her. She felt completely relaxed and safe with him.

Once Rick finished with her upper body, he gently pulled one of her legs out of the water and propped it on the side of the tub. Michonne's eyes opened as Rick ran the washcloth up and down her thighs. She felt her arousal stir within her. It had been so long since they'd last been together. She missed the feel of him inside her, and she knew he missed it too.

"Rick…" she hissed softly.

"Yea," he answered, keeping his eyes on his task. He was now rubbing her foot and toes, allowing the suds to seep between them.

"I want you," she admitted softly.

He froze for a moment, distracted from his duty. His eyes ran up her body before meeting hers. He placed the washcloth on the side of the tub and leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. He kissed her gently but passionately, gripping her head while caressing her face.

"I always want you," he whispered, "but you still need to heal. When you're better, I'll be here. Maybe another week would be enough time for your muscles to heal."

Michonne released a frustrated sigh.

"At least now we have our own bedroom. We wanted some privacy and we have it," Rick said, resuming his cleaning of Michonne's other leg. He worked his way down to her feet and massaged her arches. She released a moan of pleasure and he froze.

"You keep making those noises and it's gonna get a hell of a lot harder for me to wait a week."

Michonne chuckled and opened her eyes. "Sorry, that just feels so good. Thank you for being patient." She tried to change the subject.

"So what's the plan now? We try to acclimate to this community? Get jobs? Blend in?"

"I guess," Rick said. "Everyone's been interviewed so far except for you, but no one's been assigned a job. Beth told me it was a while until Deanna gave her a job as an assistant teacher at the school. Maybe they're cautious, which is good."

"I still can't believe they have so many resources. How do they keep the water running? The electricity going? No one here seems to be starving, so their runs must have a good haul. And Carl was telling me that the kids brag about _seeing_ walkers, so they obviously have never been in too much danger from them. How have they been this lucky for so long?"

"I don't know," Rick said, putting the washcloth down and resting his elbows on his knees. "I checked out their defenses and they have a watchtower a block away with no one in it. They only have security on the front gate, it leaves the walls around the rest of the community unguarded. The wall is good, but if it's not improved people will get through. And everyone needs to have weapon training. They can't afford to have people who are just civilians here."

Michonne nodded in agreement. "Did you mention this to Deanna?"

"Not yet," Rick said.

"I think you should. Or, I can when I have my interview."

"No, I'll do it," Rick said.

"I haven't seen too much of her, but from what I've seen she seems genuine. Transparent. Very naive, but honest. I think she'll listen."

"Mmm," Rick grumbled. "And what if they won't listen?"

"Let's try to talk to them first. If they don't want to listen then we'll deal with that when or if it comes."

When Rick didn't respond, Michonne placed a wet hand on his arm and slowly caressed him until he looked at her again.

"No matter what, we'll be okay. We can take care of ourselves, and we can teach them how to too. This is an opportunity for us to have the life we've always wanted. We have to try to teach them how to be safe. We can do this Rick."

Rick nodded and placed a kiss to Michonne's hand.

"C'mon, let's get you dried up," he suggested.

Once Rick had dried Michonne and helped her put on comfortable clothes, she noticed his appearance. His beard had grown to unimaginable lengths during their time on the road, and his hair was now shoulder length. When she'd first met him his beard was much shorter, but with the bruises and abrasions on his face she hadn't gotten a good idea of what he looked like. She realized that she'd never seen his face free from hair and injuries before.

"Sit," she commanded, pointing to the chair in their room.

"What? Why? I'm gonna help you into bed."

"Not yet. There's something I want to do for you," Michonne said. She gently pushed Rick towards the chair and she slowly worked her way back to the bathroom, holding on to the wall for support. She rummaged through the cabinets and was happy to find a scissor, a disposable razor, and shaving cream.

"Michonne, you shouldn't be standing this long," Rick called from the bedroom.

"I'm almost done," she called back. When she found what she needed she made her way back to him and placed the supplies on the end table next to his chair.

"You're gonna shave me?" he asked, amused.

"Your face is losing the war," she teased. "Now put your head back."

He did what she asked and she picked up the scissors. She ran her fingers through his long beard until she could feel the skin beneath. She then began cutting away chunks of hair. The hair fell down Rick's neck and chest in clumps, tickling as it fell. Michonne leaned closer as she maneuvered the scissor near his ears and jawline. It took ten minutes just to cut the hair down to a reasonable enough length to shave, and her abdominal muscles began to ache from their use.

Rick seemed to realize the strain on her body the same time she did.

"Okay, that's enough. I can shave the rest. You need to sit down," he commanded.

Michonne placed the scissor on the table and Rick prepared to stand, but she put her hand on his chest, holding him in place. She picked up the shaving cream and razor from the table, and held on to his shoulders before lifting one of her legs over his own and settling in his lap, facing him.

Rick's eyes widened at Michonne straddling him, and his hands automatically cupped her behind to hold her steady.

"See? I'm sitting," she purred in a sultry voice. "Now don't move."

She uncapped the shaving cream and spread it onto both of her palms before massaging it into Rick's cheeks and around his mouth. She had to admit she was having fun playing with his facial hair. Out of amusement she placed a dollop of shaving cream on his nose and chuckled at the result.

"You think that's funny huh?" he asked.

"Very."

He gave a defeated sigh and allowed her to place more shaving cream over his eyebrows and across his forehead.

"Now you look perfect," she giggled.

He squeezed her ass. "You're lucky you're cute enough to get away with this."

She smiled and gave him a peck on the lips, transferring shaving cream to her own nose.

"Poetic justice," Rick chuckled.

Michonne placed the shaving cream container on the table and held the razor to Rick's now white cheeks. Gently, she began to shave him, running the razor down his face and revealing smooth pink skin underneath. She worked in silence, and Rick watched her as she focused on her work. No one had ever shaved him before, and the act was almost as intimate as sex.

He pulled her closer, caressing her back as she started on the other side of his face.

"You're looking less and less like a caveman," she commented.

"I thought you liked my caveman look."

"I have to admit, you wear the feral look well, but the preppy, sexy, businessman look does you better."

"Mmm," he groaned, inadvertently shifting her onto his very hard dick. He knew nothing could come of this, but she was sitting in his lap, inches from his face, and his body didn't know how to behave.

"Down boy," she grinned.

"You're the one that plopped yourself here," he teased. "I can't control it if you do things to me."

Michonne smiled but finished up her work, successfully removing months of facial hair growth from Rick's face. She ran her fingers over his cheeks and rubbed her skin against his.

"I've never seen you like this before," she whispered. "You look handsome."

Rick leaned in and kissed her, reveling in the feel of her fingers against his face.

Soon, Michonne's side began aching badly and she knew it was time to lay down. Rick helped her into bed and tucked her in, before returning to the bathroom to wash off the remaining shaving cream.

"You did a good job," he called from the sink as he caressed his face. "Only _some_ of my skin is missing."

He was expecting a laugh from her, but when he heard nothing he wiped his face and headed back into the room to find her fast asleep under the covers.

He smiled and shut the lights off. It was still early, and he wasn't very tired, but he needed to hold her in their own bed for the first time. He climbed in next to her and slowly wrapped himself around her, taking in her smell and feel. He looked at the clean bedroom that surrounded them and breathed out a small breath. If life could be like this every day, if he could live in a place where safety was the norm, and he could laugh and joke with Michonne without worrying about watch schedules and finding their next source of water, then he'd make it work. He'd do this for her, their children, and their new baby.


End file.
